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LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

DAVIS 


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A    VOICE    FROM    THE    PAST 


"  One  touch  of  Nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin, 
That  all,  with  one  consent,  praise  new-born  gauds, 
Though  they  are  made  and  moulded  of  things  past ; 
And  g-ive  to  dust,  that  is  a  little  gilt, 
More  laud  than  gilt  o'er-dusted." 

TROILUS  AND  CUESSIDA 


NEW    YORK: 
GEORGE  P.  PUTNAM  &  Co.,  10  PARK  PLACE. 

1853. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853, 

BY    GEORGE    P.    PUTNAM    &    CO., 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


R.  CRAIOHKAD,  1'RINTKK, 
53  VKSEY  STRKKT. 


OF 

J.    FENIMORE    COOPER, 

THE     AMERICAN     NOVELIST, 

THIS   BOOK    IS    DEDICATED 

BY 
THE    AUTHOR. 


PREFACE 


IT  is  not  merely  with  the  hope  that  the  name  of 
Fenimore  Cooper  may  reflect  lustre  upon  these  pages, 
that  I  have  placed-  my  humble  offering  upon  his 
shrine,  but  as  a  tribute  of  friendship  and  esteem  for 
one  I  knew  and  valued,  not  only  in  his  writings,  but 
in  the  more  intimate  relations  of  private  life. 

In  the  summer  of  1849, 1  was  a  guest  for  several 
days  at  his  residence  at  Cooperstown,  upon  the  bor 
ders  of  'Otsego  Lake.  It  was  here  that  I  would 
ever  recall  Jiim,  in  calm  retirement,  surrounded  by 
his  interesting  family. 

I  can  picture  him  now,  seated  in  that  quiet 
library,  opening  on  a  garden  contrasting  pleasantly 
in  its  smiling  beauty,  with  those  dark  oaken  cases 
piled  with  treasured  lore ;  upon  a  curiously  carved 
table  were  various  papers  and  letters,  and  at  one  end 
of  the  apartment  stood  a  large  screen  from  which 
shone  forth  in  quaint  medley,  fair  faces,  bright  land 
scapes,  autographs  of  the  great  and  wise,  kings  and 
citizens,  the  dead  and  the  living,  the  evil  and  the 
good,  mingled  in  fantastic  union.  My  kind  host 
seems  to  stand  by  my  side,  as  he  did  then,  linking 


VI  PREFACE. 

with  some  familiar  name  or  scene  an  agreeable  remi 
niscence  or  piquant  anecdote,  while  the  day  wore 
unconsciously  away,  and  when  the  sun  cast  its  last 
gleam  upon  his  silvery  hair,  we  wandered  beyond 
the  enclosure,  strolling  along  the  margin  of  the  little 
lake,  which  reflected  in  its  clear  surface  the  purple 
shadows  of  Mount  Vision,  towering  above  it  like 
the  giant  warder  of  those  crystal  waters.  And  then 
as  the  stars  peeped  out  one  by  one  we  returned 
slowly  homeward. 

Since  then  three  years  have  passed,  and  in  that 
happy  home  what  changes  have  been  wrought ! 

Little  did  I  dream  that  I  saw  my  friend  for  the 
last  time,  that  in  the  rustic  churchyard,  where  the 
graves  of  his  forefathers  were  thickly  clustered,  he 
would  so  soon  sleep  in  death. 

The  stone  that  marks  his  last  resting-place  may 
crumble  into  dust,  but  his  gifted  pen  has^left  records 
more  imperishable  and  monuments  more  lasting  than 
sculptured  marble  or  polished  bronze. 

And  for  the  frail  fabric,  upon  which  I  have  ven 
tured  to  inscribe  his  name,  I  would  crave  the  public 
charity  ;  handle  it  lightly,  like  glass — it  will  bear 
little  rough  usage  ;  one  harsh,  rude  touch,  and  it  will 
fall,  even  as  the  card  houses  we  built  in  childhood. 

To  your  tender  mercy,  gentle  reader,  I  consign, 
with  all  its  faults  and  imperfections, 

THE  ECHOES  OF  A  BELLE. 


m  10  $ahm. 

I  AM  an  old  man,  in  my  quiet  home,  and  the  echoes  of  the  Past 
oome  sighing  through  the  desolate  chambers  of  my  heart.  Those 
pleasant  memories  have  cheered  many  a  weary  hour,  and  I  would 
ring  out  their  chimes  again  more  clearly  and  more  widely — not 
with  the  loud,  harsh  clapper  of  the  old  bell  in  the  church  steeple, 
but  in  gentler  vibration  I  would  swell  the  merry  peal,  at  Dawn, 
when  the  day  is  still  young,  the  world  an  unopened  book,  and  the 
pages  of  destiny  unstained  with  tears. 


DAWN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  LOVELIER  day  never  dawned  upon  the  stately  avenue  of 
majestic  oaks,  boasting  the  growth  of  a  century,  and  forming, 
in  their  interlacing  branches,  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  an  archway  to  a  most  substantial  stone  mansion,  the 
homestead  of  a  southern  planter. 

It  was  a  bright  spring  morning,  the  birds  were  twittering 
in  their  leafy  coverts,  and  the  long  grey  moss  hung  in  sha 
dowy  drapery  from  the  old  oaks ;  the  dew  was  still  glittering 
upon  the  leaves,  and  the  air  was  sweet  with  the  early  breath 
of  flowers ;  when  fairer  than  these  voiceless  children  of  spring, 
a  gentle  girl  entered  this  dim  aisle  of  Nature's  Cathedral. 

Sweet  Alice  Vere  I     I  see  you  now,  in  your  simple  dress, 

a  bonnet  thrown  back  and  hanging  by  its  ribbons  about  your 

neck,  a  face  in  cloudless  purity  and  truth,  and   in   your 

beautiful  eyes  an  eloquence  of  thought  almost  at  variance 

1* 


10  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

with  the  child-like  brow,  and  the  witchery  of  that  rosy 
mouth.  She  was  eagerly  looking  down  that  long  vista  to 
the  great  gate  at  the  end -of  the  avenue ;  another  glance,  and 
she  had  flown  towards  the  house,  as  the  sound  of  rapidly 
approaching  wheels  became  audible. 

Upon  the  steps  of  the  portico  stood  Major  and  Mrs.  Vere, 
a  lady  and  gentleman  of  the  old  school,  worthy  scions,  in 
their  noble  bearing,  of  their  English  ancestry. 

As  a  light  traveling  carriage  drove  up,  there  were  words 
of  welcome  and  warm  greetings  from  all,  for  even  the  old 
family  servants  hastened  forward  to  shake  hands  with  their 
young  masters— two  tall  striplings,  singularly  engaging  in 
their  appearance.  Arthur  was  grave  and  reserved  beyond 
his  years,  but  in  his  quiet  face  there  was  a  gentle  sweet 
ness,  touchingly  blended  with  manliness  and  strength  ;  whilst 
Jocelin,  the  younger  brother,  was  a  handsome  off-hand  youth, 
intelligent,  and  full  of  life  and  fun. 

Lingering  behind  them  was  another  lad,  young  Walter 
Gray,  the  orphan  son  of  an  early  and  lamented  companion 
in  arms  of  Major  Vere,  during  the  late  revolutionary  struggles 
of  his  country.  The  youth,  in  his  aristocratic  beauty, 
strongly  recalled  that  lost  friend,  and  the  Major  had  ever 
regarded  young  Gray  with  a  most  parental  interest. 

Whilst  Walter  stood  by  the  side  of  his  kind  host,  his  eyes 
unconsciously  followed  that  fairy  form,  with  her  arm  around 
her  brother  Arthur's  neck,  and  her  right  hand  clasped  in 
Jocelin's.  She  was  indeed  a  lovely  picture,  and  well  he 


OR,      A     VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  11 

remembered  when  he  had  shared,  in  younger  days,  that  sis 
terly  embrace.  But  now,  Alice  looked  upon  him  as  *  man, 
for  he  was  her  senior  by  several  years,  and  she  had  grown 
into  her  fifteenth  birthday  since  they  had  met. 

The  breakfast  bell  rang,  and  the  old  grey-headed  butler 
stood  at  the  parlor  door,  with  his  small  silver  tray  in  hand, 
to  usher  them  into  a  room,  where  a  bright  wood  fire  was 
blazing  upon  the  ample  hearth,  and  a  most  substantial  repast 
awaited  our  hungry  travellers. 

Although  the  mornings  were  still  so  chilly  as  to  make  a 
fire  agreeable,  there  was  a  window  thrown  open,  letting  in 
the  first  sweet  breath  of  spring ;  and  the  beautiful  blossoms 
of  the  hundred-leaved  rose  clustered  around  the  lattice,  peep 
ing  into  that  pleasant  room.  Just  outside  the  casement  there 
was  a  small  shelf,  where  Alice  scattered  rough  rice  for  the 
red  birds,  who  built  their  nests  in  the  garden  beneath,  and 
so  tame  were  her  pretty  visitants,  that  even  the  merry  voices 
within  did  not  startle  them  at  their  morning  meal. 

Mrs.  Vere,  in  her  morning  dress  with  neatly  plaited  frills 
and  high-crowned  muslin  cap,  sat  before  an  antique  looking 
silver  tea-service,  dispensing  fragrant  mocha  and  souchong. 

Well  do  I  remember  those  breakfasts  at  The  Oaks !  those 
tempting  hot  waffles,  baked  in  the  shape  of  the  most  benign 
hearts ;  the  smoking  dish  of  snow-white  hornmony ;  the  rice 
Johnny  cakes,  and  the  delicate  wafers,  that  looked  as  if  one 
might  demolish  them  by  a  touch ;  and  for  substantiate,  the 
venison  or  broiled  teal,  the  sausages,  and  thinly  sliced  hogs- 


12  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

head  cheese.  To  my  boyish  fancy  those  hearted  waffles  wera 
something  quite  unique  in  gastronomy. 

At  breakfast  time  the  post-boy  always  sent  in  the  leathern 
letter  bag,  which  Fortune,  in  his  grey  and  silver  livery,  hand 
ed  most  deferentially  to  his  master.  If  the  Major  had  a 
weakness,  it  was  his  attachment  to,  or  rather,  nervous  sensi 
tiveness  as  regarded  the  contents  of  this  old  post-bag.  No 
hand  ever  ventured  to  open  it  but  his  own,  and  there  was 
something  mysterious  in  his  manner  of  distributing  the  dif 
ferent  letters.  His  wife  was  too  far  above  all  petty  curiosity 
to  disturb  him  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  favorite  hobty,  by 
asking  any  questions ;  so,  after  finishing  his  cup  of  coffee,  he 
would  slip  off  to  his  own  quiet  study  and  arm-chair,  to  read 
his  letters  and  papers  alone. 

Alice  was  watching  her  pets  upon  the  window-sill,  and 
Walter  stood  by  her  side ;  they  did  not  seem  to  find  much 
to  say,  for  she  was  still  shy ;  he  had  been  such  a  stranger  of 
late  years  among  them  :  she  remembered  how  he  had  been 
wont  to  call  her  his  little  wife  :  and  her  pretty  face  blushed 
brighter  than  the  roses,  as  he  laid  his  hand  upon  her  fingers 
and  gathered  them  to  his  lips.  "  Oh !  Walter,  what  will 
Mamma  think  ?"  but  Mamma  was  at  the  old  buffet,  filling 
up  the  cordial-stands  and  sugar-pots,  and  did  not  heed  the 
young  people.  And  Alice's  governess,  the  vigilant  Miss 
Murrel,  had  gone  on  a  visit  to  her  relatives. 

Jocelin's  voice  was  now  heard,  calling  "  Walter,"  the  lads 
were  waiting  for  him  to  look  at  their  dogs,  but  it  was  not 


OR,    A    VOICE    PROM    THE    PAST.          13 

until  the  summons  was  seconded  by  Arthur's  demure  face, 
peeping  in  at  the  door,  that  Walter  heeded  the  call ;  the  red 
birds,  or  the  hands  in  the  glass  basin  filled  with  rough  rice, 
were  so  pretty ! 


ECHOES    OF    A    B s i. L E ; 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  boys  were  in  the  hall  where,  at  one  end,  their  guns  were 
kept,  upon  a  broad  low  stand  ;  there,  too,  hung  the  shot-bags, 
hunting  horns,  and  deer-skin  pouches.  Upon  a  row  of  pegs 
along  the  wall  there  was  a  most  heterogeneous  collection  of 
hats,  of  all  shapes  and  sorts;  and  over  the  entrance  door  was 
fastened  a  lordly  pair  of  antlers,  belonging  to  some  forest 
king,  and  placed  there  before  the  lads  were  born,  a  trophy 
from  the  hunting  days  of  their  grandfather. 

They  were  soon  at  the  foot  of  the  garden  steps ;  how  well 
the  dogs  remembered  their  old  playmates ;  and  what  a  din 
they  kept  up,  with  their  deep-baying  mouths ! 

Alice  had  joined  her  mother  in  her  daily  walk  to  the  Set 
tlement,  which  gleamed  prettily  through  a  dark  clump  of 
cedar  trees.  The  cottages,  some  thirty  in  number,  were  neat 
ly  whitewashed,  and  placed  in  rows,  or  streets,  as  they 
call  them.  All  the  men  and  able-bodied  women  had  gone 
to  their  tasks,  and  the  sick,  the  children,  and  the  old  women 
who  attended  them,  were  the  only  ones  at  home.  Under  a 
wide  spreading  tree,  were  seated  a  circle  of  little  darkies, 
each  with  their  cedar  piggin  and  iron  spoon ;  and  a  fatter, 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM     THE      PAST.  15 

more  contented  set  of  imps  were  never  seen.  In  the  middle 
of  the  yard,  there  was  a  fire  burning  under  a  large  iron  caul 
dron,  where  the  soup  for  the  mid-day  meal  was  concocted  by 
the  head  nurse. 

Mrs.  Vere  never  went  amongst  them  without  being  warmly 
welcomed.  It  was  pleasant  to  see  the  old  lady  in  her  green 
.silk  caleche,  with  a  basket  on  her  arm,  filled  with  medicines 
and  old  linen,  going  from  door  to  door,  to  prescribe  for  the 
sick,  or  to  comfort  the  dying.  Verily  she  fulfilled  the  old 
patriarchal  law,  in  her  excellent .  and  kind  relation  to  her 
slaves. 

After  the  usual  directions  had  been  given,  Alice  and  her 
mother  walked  through  the  grove,  passing  by  the  church 
where  the  people  attended,  decently  clad  and  in  respectful 
order,  the  instructions  of  their  good  pastor,  every  Sunday 
morning.  The  hands  were  hoeing  in  the  open  fields.  At  the 
sight  of  "  old  and  young  missus,"  every  hat  was  lifted,  and 
a  happy  murmur  rose  from  every  lip.  There  was  no  over 
work  or  discontent  here,  no  hungry,  ill-fed  stomachs,  but  a 
cheerful  class  of  working  people  full  of  pride  and  attachment 
for  their  owners. 

They  reached  the  house  just  as  the  Major  had  dismounted 
from  his  horse,  when  the  dressing-bell  rang,  and  Alice  ran  off 
to  her  own  room :  her  pretty  room,  with  its  fair  dimity  and 
simple  furniture. 

Seated  by  the  window  on  a  low  stool  was  Lisette,  her  little 
tire  woman ;  black  as  ebony,  with  brilliant  teeth,  a  large 


16  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

mouth,  gold  hoops  pendent  from  her  ears,  and  a  bright  ban 
dana  twisted  into  a  turban  upon  her  head.  She  did  not 
move  from  her  work  as  Alice  opened  the  door ;  the  young 
girl  stepped  cautiously  on,  stooped  over  Lisette — she  was 
fast  asleep,  and  as  she  woke  with  a  start,  her  little  mistress 
said  very  gravely,  "  Why !  Lisette,  I  do  believe  that  you 
have  slept  all  the  morning  over  your  work ;  not  a  stitch  done. 
Well !  I  won't  tell  mamma  this  time,  so  come  and  help  me 
dress.  What  shall  I  wear  ?" 

Now  quite  awake,  her  busy  handmaid  answered,  "  Aye  ! 
Missy,  you  nebber  care  'fore  to-day  what  gown  you  take ;  but 
Mass  Walter  don't  stand  half  so  pretty  as  Mass  Jocelin,  I 
know."  "  Lisette,  you  are  talking  nonsense  ;  there,  quick  ! 
give  me  my  dress.  Dear  me !  everything  goes  wrong  to-day. 
What  is  the  matter  with  the  pins,  you  stupid  Lisette !  Well, 
there's  the  dinner  bell,  and  I  am  ready  at  last."  With  these 
words,  Alice  had  flown,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  met  her 
father,  who  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  the  brow  of  his  lovely  child, 
and  taking  her  hand  in  his,  they  entered  the  dining-room. 

After  a  blessing  had  been  asked,  and  the  soup  removed 
the  table  was  covered  with  the  most  admirable  viands,  fol 
lowed  by  an  elegant  dessert.  Then  the  nuts  and  old  Madeira 
were  placed  upon  the  shining  mahogany ;  and  Mrs.  Vere  with 
Alice  withdrew,  leaving  the  gentlemen  to  join  them  in  the 
drawing-room. 

Seated  in  her  high-backed  chair,  very  upright,  with  her 
knitting  in  hand,  was  the  lady  of  the  mansion.  Click,  click 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  17 

went  the  needles — Mrs.  Vere  was  strongly  prejudiced  against 
sleeping  after  dinner,  she  would  not  forget  herself  for  an 
instant ;  but  the  delicate  fingers  faltered,  the  click,  click  was 
interrupted,  and  verily  there  was  the  slightest  possible 
approach  to  a  nod ! 

Weary  of  the  quiet  room,  Alice  had  stolen  off  to  the  gar 
den.  And  what  a  garden  that  was,  with  its  beds  of  roses  of 
every  variety  and  kind,  from  the  beautiful  moss,  and  highly 
scented  musk,  down  to  the  common  daily ;  and  there  were 
banks  of  deep  blue  violets,  shaded  by  rows  of  orange  trees, 
whose  bridal  buds  gleamed  through  the  dark  foliage,  filling 
the  air  with  luscious  perfume,  and  farther  on  was  the  fragrant 
olive  with  its  diminutive  blossoms,  mingling  with  the  spicy 
brown  flowers  of  the  aromatic  shrub. 

Among  the  roses  stood  Alice,  selecting  the  choicest  and 
fairest  for  the  drawing-room  vase. 

Soon  a  bouquet  was  gathered  too  large  for  her  tiny  hands 
to  hold,  and  a  tendril  from  the  woodbine  was  twisted  round 
to  bind  them  closer,  when  a  brilliant  butterfly,  with  golden 
wings,  settled  on  a  damask  rose,  the  flowers  were  left,  and 
away  she  flew,  a  happy  thoughtless  child,  after  the  glittering 
rover. 

But  eager  footsteps  followed  hers,  and  smoothing  her  dis 
ordered  tresses,  the  woman  fluttered  in  her  heart  again,  as 
Walter  approached. 

Arthur  had  gone  to  see  his  old  nurse,  who  lived  in  the 
house  by  the  brook,  which  had  been  expressly  built  for 


18  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE 


mammy  and  her  old  man ;  they  were  upon  the  retired  list, 
pensioners  for  life,  with  their  own  garden,  poultry-yard,  and 
cow. 

•  Jocelin  was  on  his  way  to  the  stables  to  look  after  the 
steeds  for  to-morrow's  hunt;  he  had  little  confidence  in 
the  antiquated  veterinarian ;  his  orders  were  given  to  a 
younger  groom,  but  privately,  not  to  wound  the  pride  of 
Uncle  Ned. 

Walter  now  proposed  a  walk  in  the  labyrinth  at  the  foot 
of  the  terrace,  and  Alice  and  he  were  soon  merrily  threading 
its  mazes.  "  Alice,"  he  said,  playfully,  "  I  wish  my  life  was 
like  this  labyrinth,  with  you  always  by  my  side.  I  should 
never  seek  to  escape  from  its  pleasant  intricacies."  A  blush 
and  a  light  laugh,  as  she  answered,  "  Oh !  yes,  you  would . 
Walter,  for  we  should  become  so  tired  of  each  other  in  this 
eternal  round  !  But  there  are  the  boys,  let  us  join  them." 
A  slight  frown  contracted  the  brow  of  her  companion,  as  he 
reluctantly  followed. 

When  they  entered  the  house,  lights  in  the  tall  silver  can 
dlesticks  were  placed  upon  the  table ;  and  tea  was  handed  by 
old  Fortune.  After  which,  Mrs.  Vere  seated  herself  for  a 
quiet  game  of  piquet  with  Arthur,  whilst  the  Major  and  Joce 
lin  played  backgammon. 

Alice  sat  busily  netting  a  little  green  silk  purse,  and  Walter 
looked  up  every  now  and  then  from  his  book,  to  tease  or 
question  her  as  to  the  person  for  whom  this  mysterious  piece 
of  her  own  handiwork  was  destined. 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  19 

The  purse  was  not  quite  finished  when  the  hall  clock  struck 
nine,  and  with  a  kind  good  night,  the  little  party  dis« 
persed. 


20  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  III. 

AROUND  the  breakfast  table,  the  next  morning,  were  only  the 
Major,  his  lady  and  daughter.  After  Mrs.  Vere  had  accom 
plished  her  usual  routine  of  duty,  the  old  family  coach,  with 
its  yellow  body  perched  upon  tall  spider-looking  wheels, 
drove  up  to  the  front  door,  and  Uncle  Ned,  in  all  the  pride 
of  a  livery  whose  silver  lace  was  rather  tarnished,  by  its  care 
ful  preservation  for  state  occasions,  was  in  his  glory :  seated 
upon  the  high,  narrow  box,  whip  in  hand,  stiff  and  erect  as 
pasteboard.  The  footman  had  let  down  a  perfect  ladder  of 
steps,  when  Mrs.  Vere,  in  a  black  silk  bonnet  pitched  on  the 
top  of  her  high  cap,  and  in  an  ample  silk  gown,  climbed  into 
the  coach,  followed  by  her  inseparable  basket,  and  her  pretty 
Alice,  to  pay  a  visit  to  a  neighboring  family. 

The  knitting  was  unrolled,  and  the  old  horses  jogged  along 
at  a  snail's  pace,  whilst  Uncle  Ned  slept  upon  his  outpost, 
for  the  team  knew  their  way  to  Colonel  Summers's  quite  as 
well  as  he  did. 

After  an  hour's  drive,  the  carriage  stopped  before  a  long 
white  house,  with  a  wide  piazza,  whose  rough  exterior  was 
covered  by  a  clustering  vine  of  the  yellow  jessamine. 


A     VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  21 

Mrs.  Summers  had  just  presented  her  lord,  with  a  tenth 
addition  to  his  family,  and  Mrs.  Vere's  basket  of  jellies  and 
blancmange  Avas  conveyed  to  her  delicate  friend. 

Colonel  Summers  received  them,  looking  very  little  elated 
by  his  good  fortune  in  such  a  healthful  and  numerous  pro 
geny.  He  was  a  planter  in  a  small  way,  and  found  it  hard 
to  make  the  two  ends  meet.  Lucy,  his  eldest  daughter,  was 
a  pretty  girl  of  fourteen,  with  blonde  curls  and  hazel  eyes ; 
but,  left  to  herself  to  run  wild,  she  needed  pruning  sadly,  a 
choice  but  neglected  vine.  Some  of  her  happiest  days  had 
been  passed  at  "  The  Oaks,"  and  Mrs.  Vere  had  now  come  to 
ask  the  Colonel  to  allow  Lucy  to  spend  some  time  with  them, 
that  she  might  share  Miss  Murrel's  superintendence  and 
instruction  with  her  own  little  girl. 

The  parlor,  where  they  sat,  seemed,  to  Alice,  to  swarm 
with  children,  like  flies  in  June ;  there  were  babies  of  all 
sizes,  down  to  the  last  new  type,  smothered  in  flannel,  in  the 
arms  of  a  fat  nurse. 

"When  the  wine  and  silver  basket  of  cake  were  handed  to 
the  visitors,  a  little  red-headed  urchin,  with  great  round  eyes, 
climbed  up  behind  the  Colonel's  chair,  and  pulling  him  by 
his  coat  collar,  pointed  to  the  cakes  with  their  smoothly  iced 
tops,  and  cried  out,  "  Oh !  pa,  I  want  one  dem  cakes  wid  de 
kiver  on  'um." 

Alice  stuffed  a  bit  of  cake  into  her  own  mouth  to  hide  a 
laugh,  and  the  boy  obtained  the  summit  of  his  ambition. 

They  were  again  on  their  way  home ;  the  venerable  steeds 


22  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE    * 

quickened  their  pace,  and  Uncle  Ned  dozed  upon  the  box 
when  a  sudden  jolt  brought  the  black  silk  bonnet  into  rude 
contact  with  the  top  of  the  coach,  and  Alice  was  bounced  off 
the  seat. 

Mrs.  Vere  let  down  the  glass  between  her  groom  and  self, 
calling  out,  "  Why !  Ned,  you  must  have  been  asleep  to  drive 
over  such  a  stump !" 

Straightening  himself  in  his  seat,  the  old  man  replied, 
"  Missus !  I  nebber  shut  my  eye  once,  it  was  only  an  accident, 
marm."  However,  there  were  no  more  jolts,  and  they  reached 
home  with  only  a  suspicious  dent  or  two  in  the  stately  bonnet. 

The  boys  had  been  gone  since  sunrise,  and  dinner  was 
postponed  an  hour  later  on  their  account ;  when  the  sound 
of  a  horn  was  followed  by  the  noise  of  horses'  feet  coming  at 
full  speed  through  the  avenue,  and  Alice  stood  with  her 
father  upon  the  steps  to  receive  the  young  sportsmen,  who 
were  soon  busily  recounting  their  adventures.  They  had 
had  rare  sport,  and  Jocelin  had  shot  a  magnificent  buck. 

After  the  lads  had  changed  their  gear  and  dined,  the  whole 
party  went  out  upon  the  lawn  to  see  the  spoils  of  the  hunt. 
There  the  noble  animal  lay  with  his  proud  antlers  in  the 
dust,  the  blood  still  welling  from  his  throat,  and  his  large 
bright  eye  glazed  in  death. 

Alice  could  not  look  upon  him  long ;  she  turned  away  with 
tears  in  her  kind  eyes,  and  after  Major  Vere  had  given  orders 
for  the  disposal  of  the  deer,  they  returned  to  coffee  in  the  draw 
ing-room.  That  night  the  little  purse  went  on  famously,  and 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  2<f 

was  finished  before  bed  time.     As  Alice  folded  it  up,  sha 
wondered  "  whether  Walter  dreamt  it  was  for  him  I" 

The  last  day  of  Walter's  stay  at  The  Oaks  had  arrived ;  he 
was  going  away  for  years,  to  travel  in  Europe.  The  morning 
meal  was  more  silently  dispatched  than  usual,  for  the  youth 
was  a  favorite  amongst  them  all. 

Alice  had  caught  up  her  bonnet  for  a  walk  with  her 
brothers,  but  they  were  gone  for  their  guns,  and  Walter  and 
herself  reached  the  woods  without  them. 

How  beautiful  are  our  southern  forests  in  spring,  with 
those  golden  wreaths  of  fragrant  jessamine  hanging  in  light 
festoons  from  branch  to  branch,  and  mingling  with  that  long 
grey  moss,  as  it  waves  its  shade-like  pall  upon  the  air ;  death 
and  life  twining  together.  Towering  in  majesty  the  magno 
lia  "  grandiflora"  spreads  its  broad  glossy  leaves  in  thick 
panoply  of  shade,  and  there  is  the  dogwood  dressed  in  virgin 
white,  the  fringe  tree,  and  the  wild  crab  with  its  delicate  pink 
blossoms. 

What  cool,  shaded  walks,  what  purling  brooks  were  in 
that  beautiful,  silent  wood  at  The  Oaks.  Upon  the  stump 
of  an  old  tree  sat  a  child -like  form,  and  at  its  feet  lay  Walter 
Gray,  twining  a  jessamine  wreath  into  a  golden  crown  for 
Alice,  and  when  it  was  upon  her  brow,  never  did  queen 
receive  more  earnest  homage. 

As  Walter  knelt  before  her,  she  said,  laughingly,  "  When 
I  was  a  child,  Walter,  I  thought  it  must  be  a  fine  thing  to 


"24  ^  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

sit  upon  a  great  gold  throne,  with  a  shining  crown,  and  to 
have  every  one  obey  iny  lightest  word,  but  now  I  would  not 
change  this  bright  chaplet  for  a  kingdom,  nor  be  anything 
but  simple  Alice  Vere." 

"  Yes,  Alice  Vere !"  sighed  her  young  knight,  "  but  she 
will  change  like  everything  else,  and  when  I  return  from  my 
long  pilgrimage,  shall  I  find  her  still  my  little  Alice  Vere  ?" 

Her  heart  was  full,  but  she  answered  lightly,  "  Oh !  yes,  I 
know  I  shall  grow  old  and  ugly  one  of  these  days,  but  that 
is  a  long  way  off,  and  I  am  only  thinking,  now,  how  very  sad 
it  is  for  you  to  go  away,  dear  Walter !" 

The  little  hand  was  tenderly  pressed  in  his,  as  he  asked 
her  to  wear  the  ring  he  slipped  upon  her  finger,  whilst  he 
received  the  mysterious  silk  purse  as  her  parting  gift. 

And  now  it  was  time  to  return,  for  the  hours  had  flown  in 
those  pleasant  woods,  and  silently  they  wandered  back 
towards  home. 


—  He  had  gone,  and  Alice  had  shed  many  tears 

in  her  own  room,  but  ashamed  of  her  tell-tale  eyes,  she  had 
bathed  them  again  and  again,  and  then  hastened  to  place  a 
note,  she  had  written,  on  her  mother's  toilette-table. 

The  evening  was  spent  quietly  in  the  drawing-room  with 
their  books  and  work,  and  Alice's  subdued  face  was  bent 
over  her  sewing.  Jocelin  did  not  notice  the  ring  upon  her 
finger,  for  his  own  careless  mirth  was  clouded  by  the  depart 
ure  of  his  friend. 


OR,      A     VOICE      FROM     THE     PAST.  25 

At  an  early  hour  the  family  had  retired ;  Mrs.  Vere  found 
the  little  note,  fastened  to  her  pin-cushion,  and  read  these 
words : — 

"DEAR  MAMMA: 

"  Walter  is  gone,  and  I  am  very  sad ;  he  gave  me  at  part 
ing  a  pretty  ring  which  I  should  like  to  wear ;  but  pray,  dear 
mamma,  don't  let  Jocelin  or  papa  tease  me  about  it ;  I  tell 
you  now,  because  I  was  afraid  you  would  ask  me,  before 
them  all,  who  gave  it  me. 

"  Your  own 

"ALICE." 

In  her  long  loose  wrapper  and  night-kerchief  with  the 
light  shaded  by  her  hand,  the  mother  passed  into  Alice's 
apartment,  to  set  that  little  heart  at  ease.  But  her  child  had 
forgotten  the  day  and  its  troubles  in  quiet  sleep,  her  head 
was  pillowed  on  the  snowy  lawn,  and  the  long  dark  lashes 
rested  upon  her  cheek. 

To  that  mother's  heart  how  beautiful  she  was ;  pure  and 
sinless  as  an  angel  from  above;  yet,  on  that  cheek  and 
silken  lash  the  tears  of  earth  were  glittering. 

Stooping  softly  over  her,  the  lady  pressed  a  gentle  kiss 
upon  the  forehead  of  the  sleeping  girl,  whilst  eyes,  that 
seldom  knew  such  softness,  were  moistened  then,  for  she  felt 
this  this  was  her  child's  first  sorrow  in"  the  glimmering 
dawn  of  womanhood. 

2 


26  ECHOES    OF    A    BELIE; 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Miss  MURREL  had  returned  with  fresh  vigor  to  the  field ; 
strict  and  conscientious  in  the  discharge  of  her  duties,  she 
exacted  much  from  others.  Small,  spare,  and  upright,  with  a 
quick  eye  that  nothing  escaped,  she  stood  upon  the  verge  of 
spinsterhood. 

But  there  was  much  real  excellence  in  her  character,  and 
those  crisp,  short  curls  and  high  top  comb,  crowned  a  head 
well  stored  with  learning  and  sound  judgment. 

One  bright  morning  in  May,  an  old  dilapidated  chaise 
and  raw-boned  grey  drove  up  the  avenue,  and  Lucy  Sum 
mers  was  consigned  by  her  father  to  Mrs.  Vere's  mother 
ly  care ;  her  small  hair  trunk  was  safely  deposited,  bearing 
the  initials  C.  S.,  in  brass  nails,  upon  the  top,  and  con 
taining  her  whole  stock  of  worldly  goods.  But,  though 
poor,  Lucy  was  a  proud,  ambitious  child,  and  there  was  the 
seal  of  gentle  blood  in  the  natural  elegance  of  her  form  and 
face. 

Quick  and  versatile  in  her  powers,  the  neglected  girl  soon 
did  credit  to  Miss  Muriel's  instruction.  It  was  not  long 
before  she  excelled  in  Algebra ;  whilst  Alice  most  cordially 


OR,    A    VOICE    PROM    THE    PAST.          27 

detested  those  tedious  equations,  her  little  head  was  not 
formed  for  computation,  and  her  multiplication-table  had 
been  a  sad  stumbling-block.  Many  a  "jour  maigre"  of 
penance  and  tears  had  blotted,  in  younger  days,  that  chequer- 
board  of  numerals  at  the  back  of  her  arithmetic.  It  was  all 
in  vain,  as  fast  as  those  long  lines  were  packed  in  right,  they 
would  pop  out  again  the  wrong  way.  But,  in  her  other 
studies  she  was  well  advanced,  and  in  her  facility  for  acquir 
ing  languages  she  bore  the  palm  from  Lucy. 

The  lessons  were  over  for  the  day,  and  the  girls  had  wan 
dered  to  a  distant  spring,  where  the  ruins  of  a  miniature 
cottage  still  stood ;  it  had  been  built  for  Alice  by  Walter 
and  her  brothers,  and  had  been  the  scene  of  many  a  sunny 
play. 

She  was  on  her  knees,  peeping  in  through  the  door, 
as  she  asked  : — 

"  Do  you  remember,  Lucy,  that  round  flat  stump  in  the 
middle  was  the  table  where  we  used  to  set  our  acorn 
cups  and  saucers,  and  there,  by  the  spring,  was  our  dairy  ? 
How  happy  we  were,  then.  Ah !  sometimes  I  am  sorry  I 
can  never  be  that  little  child  again !" 

Lucy  was  dreaming,  and  murmured,  as  if  speaking  to 
herself: — 

"Whilst  I  long  to  be  a  woman,  I  shall  never  marry 
a  poor  man  ;  for  wealth  is  power,  and  that  would  be  another 
name,  to  me,  for  happiness." 

Alice  looked  up  with  a  puzzled  face,  and  exclaimed :— 


28  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

"What  strange  fancies!  Your  bright  eyes,  Lucy,  seem 
to  look  far  into  the  mysterious  future,  whilst  I  am  content 
in  the  quiet  present." 

"  Yes,"  returned  her  fair  friend,  "you  are  entangled  in  the 
me?hes  of  your  first  romance,  and  write  furtive  verses  ending 
in  l  sigh  and  '  die,  and  you  have  sometimes  tried  how 
prettily  Alice  Gray  would  look  written  in  a  fair  running 
hand.  Dear  me  !  in  a  few  years  you  will  forget  your  gentle 
swain,  for  he  will  go  to  the  East,  and  fall  in  love  with 
Egyptian  mummies,  and  other  rusty  antiquities  !" 

Upon  the  brow  of  her  gentle  listener  there  was  an  expres 
sion  of  such  real  pain,  that  Lucy's  arm  encircled  her,  with 
a  pleading  look  for  forgiveness,  as  they  turned  their  steps 
slowly  homeward. 

At  breakfast,  when  the  post-bag  was  opened,  there  were 
letters  from  Walter,  to  the  Major  and  Jocelin,  saying  he 
was  to  sail  in  a  few  hours  for  Liverpool,  and  bidding  them 
all  farewell  in  words  that  plainly  showed  how  gratefully  his 
heart  still  lingered  at  "  The  Oaks."  Whilst  the  Major,  con 
trary  to  his  usual  custom,  read  his  letter  aloud,  Alice  hi$ 
her  tearful  eyes  behind  the  sheltering  rim  of  her  tea-cup, 
and,  as  soon  as  she  could,  escaped  to  her  own  room. 

It  was  about  a  week  after  this  that  the  leathern  bag  dis 
gorged,  amongst  a  pile  of  papers  and  magazines,  a  long  offi 
cial-looking  document,  inclosing  a  warrant  for  Jocelin. 
The  lad  had  always  set  his  heart  upon  entering  the  navy, 


OR,    A    VOICE    FROM    IHE    PAST.          29 

and  after  his  father  had  tried  every  reasonable  way  of  com 
bating  his  son's  choice,  he  had  yielded  a  reluctant  consent. 
An  application  was  made  to  the  Naval  Department  at 
Washington,  and  Jocelin  had  now  obtained  his  utmost 
desire. 

Whiter  than  her  dress  was  the  cheek  of  his  mother,  and 
those  small  thin  lips  were  more  tightly  compressed,  as  she 
heard  her  boy's  fate  sealed  for  a  life  of  danger  and  exposure, 
in  far  distant  wanderings  from  home. 

Lucy  sat  calmly  at  the  table,  but  a  brilliant  spot  glowed 
beneath  the  tearless  lids  of  her  downcast  eyes  ;  the  burning 
heart  had  sent  its  fires  there,  and  the  beautiful  mouth 
slightly  quivered  in  its  mute  repose. 

Jocelin  did  not  dream  that  so  calm  a  surface  could  hide  a 
heart  worth  proving.  He  was  comforting  his  sister,  and 
had  drawn  her  towards  him,  playfully  chiding  her  timid 
fears,  as  he  exclaimed  : — 

"  Why,  Alice,  I  shall  soon  have  a  ship  of  my  own,  and 
then  you  may  sail  with  me  over  bright  seas  to  fair  lands, 
where  Walter  has  gone !  So  save  your  tears,  my  pretty 
one,  and  only  wish  me  joy  !" 

Pleasantly  the  summer  had  flown  at  their  sea-shore  resi 
dence,  and  winter  found  the  family  group  again  assembled 
at  "  The  Oaks."  But  there  was  one  gap  in  their  circle ; 
with  the  falling  leaves  of  autumn,  Jocelin  had  gone  to  join 
his  ship  for  a  two  years'  cruise.  And  many  a  stormy  night, 


SO  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

•when  the  wind  whistled  through  the  old  trees,  did  fond  and 
prayerful  hearts  supplicate  for  the  safety  of  that  loved  one 
on  the  wide,  wide  sea. 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST. 


CHAPTER  V. 

IT  was  Christmas-day,  and  the  long  piazza,  at  the  back  of 
the  house,  was  covered  with  bales  of  blankets  and  boxes  of 
pipes  and  tobacco  for  the  people.  There  Major  and  Mrs. 
Vere  distributed  the  usual  presents,  a  comfortable  blanket  to 
some,  to  others  hats  or  woollen  caps,  gay  handkerchiefs, 
needles,  thimbles  and  scissors  to  the  women.  There  were 
pipes  and  tobacco,  for  all  who  wanted  them,  the  hogshead 
of  molasses  was  opened,  and  a  beef  had  been  killed  for  the 
holidays.  Old  Jim  received  a  new  fiddle,  from  his  master's 
hand,  with  a  broad  grin  of  delight,  and,  after  a  "merry 
Christmas"  had  been  wished  to  all,  they  returned  to  the  Set 
tlement  laden  with  their  gifts. 

And  now  the  sound  of  careless  mirth  was  heard  in  every 
house,  daddy  Jim  had  screwed  up  his  fiddle,  and  braced 
against  the  whitewashed  wall,  he  "  discoursed,"  if  not  "  sweet 
music,"  a  most  inspiring  jig.  The  young,  in  their  Sunday's 
best,  danced  until  sunset,  and  the  old  smoked  and  feasted  to 
their  hearts'  content. 

Not  less  merry  was  the  party  in  the  hall ;  many  visitors 
were  assembled  from  far  and  near.  Colonel  Summers,  lady 


32  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

and  progeny,  the  Digbies  and  their  son  and  heir,  the  Listens, 
with  two  pretty  daughters,  still  in  their  teens,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Prince  and  twins,  with  two  colored  nurses  in  attendance,  and 
Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps,  a  precise  bachelor. 

The  table  groaned  beneath  the  glorious  cheer,  as  they  sat 
down,  just  twenty  in  number,  to  dinner. 

The  Cassena  with  its  coral  berries,  the  dark  green  holly, 
and  the  mistletoe,  hung  in  fresh  garlands  in  the  hall,  which 
was  lighted  for  the  dance.  Tn  the  drawing-room  the  card- 
tables  were  set  out,  and  seated  at  them  were  parties  playing 
loo  and  whist,  whilst  daddy  Jim  was  summoned  with  his 
fiddle,  followed  by  a  tambourine,  to  the  Terpsichorean 
hall. 

Alice  and  Lucy,  arrayed  alike,  in  white  muslin,  blue  sashes, 
and  blue  silk  slippers,  were  most  tempting  partners. 

Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps  shone  resplendent  in  a  dress-coat  and 
gilt  buttons,  pumps  and  silk  stockings.  With  a  triumphant 
glance  at  the  drawing-room  mirror,  he  sallied  forth,  at 
the  first  scrape  of  the  violin.  When  old  Jim  sung  out 
lustily — 

"  Gentlemen,  tak  your  pardners  for  a  cotillon  !" 

The  Misses  Liston  in  gauze  and  flaxen  curls  looked  divine* 
ly ;  Arthur  and  young  Summers  were  the  claimants  for  their 
hands,  whilst  Mr.  Pipps  led  Alice  to  her  place  at  the  head 
of  the  dance,  and  Lucy,  as  her  vis-a-vis,  was  the  partner  of 
the  elated  Digby. 


OR,    A    VOICE    FROM    IHE    PAST.          33 

As  Jim  called  out, "  fore  and  back  two !"  Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps 
stepped  out  on  tiptoe,  and  cut  a  pigeon-wing  to  perfection. 

"Turn  your  pardners  round,"  was  obeyed  by  all  but  Joe 
Summers,  who  was  lost  in  reveries  of  punch  and  eggnog  in 
perspective. 

In  the  "  lady's  chain,"  young  Digby  became  entangled  in 
Miss  Liston's  gauze. 

The  "  Allemande  at  de  corners,"  was  immortalized  by  Mr. 
Pipps,  and  the  whole  wound  up  with  a  "  Saushay  all !" 

A  reel  was  then  called  for ;  the  Major  led  off  Mrs.  Prince 
in  a  pink  turban  and  green  silk,  and  Mrs.  Summers  followed, 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  Mr.  Liston. 

The  son  and  heir  of  the  house  of  Digby  was  most  tender 
in  his  delicate  attentions  to  Alice,  squeezing  her  hand  at 
every  possible  juncture,  whilst  Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps  performed 
feats  of  grace  with  the  elder  Miss  Liston. 

Joe  Summers,  still  the  constant  partner  of  the  younger 
Miss  Liston,  stooped  beneath  the  row  of  arms,  stacked  above 
him,  and  in  a  most  flushed  and  excited  state  tore  down  the 
line,  when,  just  at  the  close,  a  false  step  precipitated  him 
almost  into  the  lap  of  the  portly  Mrs.  Digby. 

The  exhausted  dancers  were  now  brought  up  with  hot 
eggnog,  which,  in  an  India  bowl  of  inordinate  capacities,  was 
steaming  fragrantly  on  the  table,  potent  with  the  best  old 
brandy. 

Even  the  good  Major  seemed  to  have  taken  an  undue 
share,  and  was  fiercely  fighting  over  his  old  battles  of  the 

2* 


34  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE' 

Revolution  with  Colonel  Summers ;  whilst  Digby,  junior, 
was  making  sheep's  eyes,  and  talking  rather  thick  as  he  whis 
pered  soft  things  to  Alice. 

The  bowl  appeared  a  never  failing  spring,  still  bubbling 
up,  in  spite  of  the  frequent  draughts  at  its  bright  fountain, 
when  a  fortunate  move  was  made,  by  the  lady  of  the  man 
sion,  for  bed. 

In  every  direction,  to  the  eyes  of  the  exhilarated  gentle 
men,  beds  and  candlesticks  were  looming-out  invitingly,  and 
Joe  Summers,  in  a  perfect  state  of  somnolency,  groped  his 
way  to  a  door ;  it  yielded  to  his  touch,  he  steadied  himself 
and  entered,  when  a  shrill  scream  aroused  him  from  his 
torpor,  as  Miss  Murrel,  "  en  papillote,"  and  in  a  loose  flannel 
gown,  took  refuge  behind  her  bed-curtains,  leaving  Joe  Sum 
mers  dumb-foundered  in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  Another 
shriek,  and  Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps,  who  occupied  the  adjoining 
apartment,  rushed  to  the  rescue ;  placing  his  hand  over  Joe's 
unresisting  mouth,  he  was  dragged  from  the  lady's  room  and 
safely  consigned,  by  the  chivalric  Pipps,  to  the  custody  of 
his  own  bed,  under  lock  and  key,  as  a  surety  for  no  more 
such  youthful  escapades.  Miss  Murrel  was  at  last  wrapped 
in  "  balmy  sleep ;"  not  even  the  violent  indisposition  of  the 
twins,  just  over  her,  and  the  anxiety  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Prince, 
was  made  apparent  to  her  steeped  senses,  for  she  was 
dreaming  of  her  preux  chevalier  the  immortal  Adolphus 
Pipps. 

The  next  morning  there  were  many  missing ;  symptoms 


OB,    A    VOICE    FROM    THIS    PAST.          35 

of  headache  among  the  gentlemen  and  loss  of  appetite  with 
the  ladies.  The  twins  had  survived  the  night  and  its  terrors, 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Prince  were  still  in  a  most  harmonious 
state  of  mind,  from  the  pleasant  little  duet  kept  up  until  day, 
for  their  especial  amusement.  Nothing  had  been  heard  from 
the  prisoner  under  solitary  confinement ;  but  Mr.  Adolphus 
Pipps  looked  as  fresh  as  a  rose,  the  secret  repository  of  Miss 
Murrel's  fair  fame ! 

At  dinner  they  were  collected  with  renewed  force,  and  Joe 
Summers  revived  his  wasted  powers  on  wild  turkey  and 
venison. 

After  tea  the  younger  part  of  the  company  played  at "  blind- 
man's-buff"  and  "  puss-in-the-corner,"  in  which  Digby  and 
Summers  came  into  violent  collision  and  retired  amicably  to 
the  dining-room,  to  quench  any  lingering  spark  of  enmity  in 
convivial  intercourse. 

A  bright  morning  and  an  early  seat  in  the 

saddle,  for  a  long  day's  hunt ;  in  which  all  the  gentlemen 
joined,  with  the  exception  of  young  Digby,  whose  "  heart  was 
not  in  the  chase." 

With  ample  time  for  reflection  the  youth  was  still  in  a 
state  bordering  on  frenzy.  Encountering  Alice  in  the 
shrubbery,  he  blushed  redder  than  a  full-blown  peony,  as, 
with  a  spasmodic  jerk  at  his  shirt-collar,  he  stammered  out, 
with  a  lisp,  "  Mith  Vere,  will  you  allow  me  a  few  momenth 
converthathun  vith  you  ?" 

Alice  turned  towards  him,  in  surprise  at  his  evident  con- 


36         .  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

fusion,  when  he  seized  her  hand,  and  in  a  moment  of  intense 
excitement,  laid  at  her  feet  his  fortune  and  his  heart. 

The  young  girl  was  sobered  in  a  moment ;  as  she  sought  to 
withdraw  her  imprisoned  hand,  she  replied,  "  Why,  sarely 
you  are  not  in  earnest,  Mr.  Digby,  you  cannot  mean  what  you 
say ;  I  am  still  a  child,  and  would  rather  not  hear  of  such 
serious  things !"  Here  she  was  interrupted  by  her  enraptured 
admirer,  saying,  "  Oh  !  I  can  wait,  Mith  Vere,  juth  ath  long 
ath  you  like,  you  cannot  mean  to  refuthe  my  offer,  for  ma 
hayth  I  will  be  ath  rich  ath  Crethuth !" 

Alice  hid  her  laughing  face  behind  her  handkerchief,  and, 
when  she  had  regained  composure,  distinctly  told  the  crest 
fallen  Digby  that  she  was  sorry  to  decline  the  offer  of  his 
hand,  but  that  she  hoped  he  would  forgive  any  temporary 
pain  she  might  have  inflicted,  and  that  she  fully  honored  his 
affection,  if  not  the  fortune  which .  should  place  him  upon 
a  golden  pinnacle  with  "  Crethuth !" 

Unfortunately  for  the  heir  of  Digby,  his  tender  confession 
was  overheard  by  Lucy.  She  had  come  in  search  of  Alice, 
and,  having  reached  a  sheltering  hedge,  was  irresistibly 
enchained  by  the  pleading  voice  of  the  smitten  youth. 

As  she  appeared,  the  conscious  Digby  plunged  into  a 
thicket,  for  solitary  reflection,  while  the  lady  of  his  rejected 
heart  strove  to  silence  Lucy's  gay  bantering,  as  she  exclaim 
ed,  "  For  shame !  to  laugh I—and  since  you  have  played  the 
part  of  listener,  you  must  now  act  a  better  one  and  promise 
never  to  mention  this  foolish  affair,  even  to  mamma !" 


OR,     A      VOICE      FROM      THE     PAST.  37 

The  Digbies  were  among  the  first  to  make  their  adieus, 
and  early  in  the  New  Year  of  1809,  the  rest  of  the  guests 
returned  to  their  own  homes. 

Thfi  holidays  were  over,  and  everything  was  again  in  its 
usual  order  at  The  Oaks. 

The  girls  resumed  their  studies,  whilst  Miss  Murrel  drove 
the  irresistible  Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps  from  her  memory.  Mrs. 
Vere  became  engrossed  in  her  various  domestic  duties,  and 
the  Major  read  his  letters  and  papers  in  peace  once  more. 

In  turning  over  the  pages  of  a  distinguished  American 
writer  of  the  present  day,  I  find,  in  the  history  of  our  early 
colonies,  a  beautiful  allusion  to  this  sequestered  southern  life ; 
he  speaks  "  of  affections  expanded  in  the  wilderness,  where 
artificial  amusements  were  unknown,"  and  tells  us  that  "the 
planter's  whole  heart  was  in  his  family,  his  pride  in  the  chil 
dren  that  bloomed  around  him,  making  the  solitudes  laugh 
with  innocence  and  gayety." 

There  are  none  too  good  or  too  wise  to  profit  by  occasional 
seclusion,  but,  to  a  life  of  continued  isolation  and  retirement 
there  are  objections ;  the  mind  naturally  becomes  contracted 
to  the  narrow  limit  that  compasses  our  own  daily  avocations, 
the  affections  are  centred  only  in  the  few  who  are  bound  to 
us  by  the  sacred  associations  of  home,  we  forget  the  great, 
strong  world  beyond  with  its  heaving  thoughts,  its  rapid 
action,  we  have  no  patience  for  its  innovations,  we  cannot 
understand  its  sudden  impulses,  and  wake  from  our  torpor, 


38  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

only  to  find  ourselves  far  behind  the  age,  with  prejudices  too 
strong  for  contention  and  too  obsolete  for  the  times. 

In  mingling  with  human  nature,  we  will  see  much  of  evil, 
much  that  cries  to  us  for  charity,  much  that  pleads  for  com 
miseration,  but  the  Christian  should  not  shrink  as  if  there 
were  pollution  in  the  contact.  Our  Divine  Master  did  not 
seem  to  place  his  religion  in  the  cold  austerities  of  monkish 
seclusion,  when  he  breathed  out  his  love  for  man  in  that 
tender  aspiration,  "  I  pray  not  that  thou  shouldest  take  them 
out  of  the  world,  but  that  thou  shouldest  keep  them  from  the 
evil." 


to  Stow. 


THE  merry  chime  of  youth  dies  upon  the  air;  its  lingering  echo 
carries  me  back  to  early  years ;  I  seem  again  to  drink  from  the 
inspiring  bowl  in  the  old  hall,  and  to  dance  to  the  sound  of  Jim's 
fiddle.  Oh  1  ye  dancing  feet,  how  have  ye  wandered,  in  sorrow 
and  in  joy,  over  this  fair  Earth,  to  totter  at  life's  close,  alone,  to  the 
quiet  grave! 

Know  ye,  gentle  Reader,  that  to  even  one  so  desolate,  there  are 
by-gone  hours  whose  sunshine  still  glances  on  the  old  man's  home, 
the  lovely  and  the  loved  are  often  with  me  in  golden  dreams,  and 
once  more  I  sweep  those  heart-chords  with  my  trembling  hand, 
to  prolong  in  lengthened  tones  another  Echo  of  the  Past. 


NOON 


CHAPTER   I. 

IN  the  reading-room  of  a  favorite  hotel,  stood  a  group  of 
fashionably  dressed  men,  busily  discussing  the  news  of  tho 
day.  Frank  Howard,  a  dashing  young  blood,  was  speaking 
to  a  handsome  Englishman,  with  a  title  in  perspective. 
"  Well,  Langdon,  are  you  for  the  ball  to-night  ? "  A  most 
equivocal  shrug  was  the  only  answer,  as  the  cigar  remained 
unmoved. 

"  Come,  old  fellow !  this  confounded  indifference  of  you 
cool  English  won't  do;  to-night  we  will  show  you  a  face 
that  will  stir  even  your  languid  pulses,  and  in  all  your  own 
bright  isle,  I'll  wager  you  cannot  match  one  so  peerless  as 
Alice  Vere  ;  she  makes  her  debut  at  the  Governor's  ball." 

The  Englishman  was  aroused  enough  to  suggest,  that  "the 
lady  was  one  of  ten,  and  that  the  family  fortune  generally 
.went  by  long  division  in  America."  Here  a  young  naval 


42  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

officer,  on  leave  of  absence,  quickly  retorted,  "  Hark  ye,  friend, 
in  this  broad  land  of  ours,  there  is  room  and  bread  for  all ; 
we  elder  brothers  do  not  feed  on  beef  and  plum-pudding,  and 
leave  our  own  flesh  and  blood  to  starve." 

The  color  mantled  in  Reginald  Langdon's  cheek,  but 
quickly  passed,  as  Wallace  added,  with  a  pleasant  smile,  "  if 
all  I&glishmen  had  your  kind  heart,  Langdon,  the  law  of 
primogeniture  would  be  less  abused." 

And  the  little  group  strolled  off,  arm  in  arm,  to  look  at  a 
pair  of  bright  bays,  which  Howard's  groom  was  admiringly 
exhibiting  before  the  door. 

*         *         *         *         #         *         *         *         * 

Lights  were  twinkling  in  the  long  deserted  town  mansion, 
and  Alice  was  dressed  for  her  first  ball.  How  lovely  she  look 
ed  in  that  delicate  robe  of  India  muslin  sprigged  with  silver ; 
the  slender  throat  and  the  rounded  arm  needed  no  spark 
ling  gems  to  adorn  their  fair  proportions.  A  coronet  of 
silver  oak  leaves,  in  her  dark  hair,  glistened  like  frost-work 
on  her  brow.  Although  the  little  head  was  proudly  placed 
upon  the  chiselled  bust,  the  heart  was  still  the  same  untar 
nished  jewel,  and  Walter's  ring  still  glittered  upon  her 
finger. 

Lisette  was  holding  the  candles  before  her  young  mistress, 
and  declared  "  that  missy  in  her  goulin  crown,  would  take 
the  shine  off  ebry  lady  in  the  room  !"  When  the  dressing- 
room  door  opened,  and  a  tall,  graceful  girl,  with  golden  curls, 
glided  into  the  apartment,  "  Why,  Lucy !"  exclaimed  Alice, 


OR,      A      VOICE      FEOM      THE      PAST.  43 

"  how  charming  you  are,  with  that  dark  ivy  wreath  in  your 
beautiful  hair." 

Those  bright  eyes  were  gazing  at  Alice,  but  not  in  envious 
pride,  as  she  quickly  returned,  "  And  you,  Alice,  are  as  ethe 
real  as  a  moonbeam,  your  dress  is  perfect !" 

The  rustle  of  a  stately  train  swept  by  them,  and  Mrs.  Vere, 
in  a  spotless  turban  and  black  satin,  was  a  glorious  picture 
of  the  lofty  dames  of  by-gone  days. 

It  had  struck  nine  ;  the  carriage  now  awaited  them,  and 
Alice  flew  to  the  drawing-room,  to  exhibit  her  dress  to  her 
father  and  Arthur.  The  Major  stooped  to  kiss  her  fair  cheek, 
saying,  "  My  little  Alice  glitters  like  a  star  to-night !"  and 
the  dark  eyes  of  Arthur  were  beaming  fondly  on  his  lovely 
sister,  as  he  carefully  folded  her  in  her  silken  cloak  and  hood. 

The  band  struck  up  a  lively  measure,  as  Alice  made  her 
courtesy  to  the  Governor's  lady  in  the  ante-room. 

She  was  leaning  upon  her  brother's  arm,  looking  at  the 
dancers,  and  to  her  young  eyes  what  a  dazzling  scene  of  light 
and  enchantment  it  seemed.  She  did  not  heed  the  many 
admiring  glances  directed  towards  the  ball-room  door. 
Frank  Howard  approached  with  Wallace,  in  full  uniform; 
the  Lieutenant  was  introduced,  and  at  once  secured  her  hand 
for  the  next  set,  whilst  Howard  renewed  an  early  acquaint 
ance  with  Lucy  Summers. 

Wallace  was  a  brilliant,  amusing  talker,  and  Alice  was 
soon  laughing  merrily  at  his  clever  speeches.  He  gave  her 
his  arm  to  lead  her  to  the  dance  ;  there  was  a  murmur  of 
pleasure  and  surprise  as  she  took  her  place ;  even  the 


44  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

phlegmatic  Englishman  seemed  entranced  as  she  floated  past, 
and  whispered  to  a  gentleman  at  his  elbow,  "  By  Jove !  she 
is  an  angel.  Howard  did  not  overrate  her  points  ;  and  who 
is  that  handsome  girl  dancing  opposite?"  "Ah!  her  friend 
Lucy  Summers.  How  confoundedly  stupid,  in  me,  not  to 
dance,  and  there  is  that  uniform  of  Ned  Wallace's  playing 
the  very  mischief !" 

By  the  time  the  cotillon  was  over,  Langdon  was  quite 
enough  interested  to  ask  an  introduction,  at  the  Governor's 
hands,  to  both  mother  and  daughter.  Howard  was  still  at 
Lucy's  side,  and  gave  Wallace  a  knowing  wink,  as  the  Eng 
lishman,  with  unwonted  "  empressement,"  made  his  bow  to 
Alice  Vere.  A  most  incessant  fire  was  kept  up  by  the  naval 
hero  on  her  right,  and  the  Englishman  on  her  left,  until  ano 
ther  dance,  when  Howard  claimed  the  lady's  hand,  whilst 
the  forsaken  Langdon  was  left 'to  admire  his  pumps  and  silk 
stockings  in  solitary  glory. 

Wallace  was  Alice's  vis-a-vis,  and  forgot  the  figures,  until 
Lucy  called  him  to  order. 

Among  the  beaux,  there  was  the  rejected  Digby,  who 
blushed  painfully  as  he  saluted  Alice,  but  was  apparently  in 
a  most  salubrious  state,  lisping  out  his  soul  to  the  younger 
Miss  Liston. 

It  was  the  Englishman's  turn,  at  last ;  he  had  the  honor 
of  handing  Miss  Vere  to  supper.  Alice  was  the  envy  of 
many  a  manoeuvring  mamma,  and  the  cause  of  many  a  secret 
sigh,  in  younger  hearts,  as  she  passed  with  Reginald  Lang 
don  down  the  grand  staircase  to  the  banqueting  hall. 


OR,     A    VOICE      FROM     THE     PAST.  46 

The  ball  was  over,  and  our  heroine,  in  all  her  wrappings, 
once  more  in  the  old  coach ;  her  head  still  swam  with  the 
lights  and  music,  when  the  carriage  stopped  at  the  door  of 
their  own  mansion. 

The  beautiful  dresses  were  laid  aside,  and  the  two  girls, 
seated  in  their  loose  wrappers,  by  the  fire  in  the  dressing- 
room,  were  talking  over  the  ball.  "  Was  it  not  charming  ?" 
exclaimed  Lucy,  as  she  passed  her  hand  through  her  fair 
curls,  "  and  did  you  not-  think  Frank  Howard  handsome  ? 
Crethuth,  too,  was  magnificent  in  his  buff  vest !" 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  Alice  replied,  as  she  balanced  a  delicate  slip 
per  on  the  point  of  her  pretty  foot,  "  it  was  a  delightful  ball, 
and  Howard  has  improved  wonderfully  since  his  trip  abroad ; 
but  is  not  the  Englishman  charming,  and  the  young  Lieute 
nant  in  that  captivating  uniform  !  Oh  !  those  buttons,  how 
very  taking  they  are ; — but,  dear  me  !  how  late  it  is  ;  Mam 
ma  will  scold ;  so,  good  night,  arnica  mia  /"  Lucy  gave 
her  parting  kiss,  and  went  to  her  own  room.  But  Alice 
remained  dreaming  by  the  fire,  her  thoughts  seemed  too 
bright  to  be  lulled  to  sleep  ; — she  was  thinking  of  her  plea 
sant  partners,  and  was  dancing  over  her  first  cotillon,  when 
her  eye  accidentally  fell  upon  the  little  ring  glittering  on  her 
finger,  the  hand  was  quickly  raised  to  her  blushing  lips  as 
she  softly  murmured,  "  Dear,  dear  Walter  !" 

In  her  sleep  she  wandered  once  more  through  those  quiet 
woods,  and  her  jessamine  crown,  in  its  thornless  beauty,  shed 
a  halo  of  peace  upon  her  brow. 


46  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  TT 

A  LIGHT,  open  carriage  stood  before  the  door,  and  Alice  and 
Lucy,  in  their  pretty  bonnets,  were  equipped  for  an  airing, 
after  last  night's  dissipation.  But  they  were  as  fresh  as 
early  violets,  and  were  talking  away  very  merrily,  as  they 
passed  Howard  in  his  gay  curricle,  his  English  friend  by  his 
side,  followed  by  an  outrider  in  livery. 

The  hats  were  quickly  lifted,  and  as  the  ladies  bowed, 
Langdon  took  his  cigar  from  his  mouth,  and  exclaimed,  "  By 
Jupiter !  Howard,  what  a  pair  of  loves  stowed  away  in  that 
bird's  nest  of  a  carriage ;  that  dark-eyed  beauty  of  yours  is 
well  enough,  but  Alice  Vere  is  a  gem  worth  wearing !" 

The  little  carriage  wheeled  rapidly  on,  and  stopped  before 
a  fashionable  shop.  The  ladies  had  hardly  entered  the  door, 
before  "the  bright  buttons"  were  glancing  at  their  side; 
Alice's  purchases  were  soon  made,  and  as  the  Lieutenant 
handed  her  to  the  vehicle,  the  touch  of  that  little  gloved 
hand  sent  a  thrill  of  delight  to  the  young  man's  heart.  He 
eagerly  asked  whether  she  was  not  going  to  see  Cooper  in 
"  Othello"  that  night  ?  A  sweetly  murmured  "  yes,"  and 


OR,     A    VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  47 

away  the  equipage  rolled,  leaving  Wallace  to  finish  his  morn 
ing  stroll. 

The  theatre  was  crowded  from  pit  to  gallery ; 

Mrs.  Vere  and  party  were  seated  in  box  No.  3. 

Alice  was  very  charming,  in  her  simple  dress,  with  her 
dark  hair  in  one  rich  braid,  encircling  her  classical  head,  and 
Lucy's  eyes  were  beaming  with  light,  as  Howard  whispered 
some  gentle  flattery  in  her  ear. 

The  curtain  rose,  and  Holman  entered  as  lago.  The  deepest 
silence  attested  the  deference  of  the  audience ;  but  when 
Cooper  appeared,  in  the  next  scene,  he  was  received  with 
loud  applause.  What  a  magnificent  Moor  he  made,  with 
that  superb  voice  and  unequalled  form !  Every  ear  was 
bent  to  catch  his  lightest  word,  and  when  he  closed,  there  » 
came  another  thundering  burst  from  the  assembled  company. 

The  interest  increased  as  Desdemona  advanced,  when 
Othello  says — 

"  She  lov'd  me  for  the  dangers  I  had  pass'd. 
And  I  lov'd  her  that  she  did  pity  them, 
This  only  is  the  witchcraft  I  have  us'd. 
Here  comes  the  lady,  let  her  witness  it." 

In  her  fine  expressive  face  and  commanding  form,  Miss  Hol 
man  was  not  the  soft,  yielding  Desdemona  we  generally  see 
portrayed  ; — in  a  clear,  full  voice,  with  the  most  perfect 
enunciation,  she  answered — 


48  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

"  My  noble  father, 
I  do  perceive  here  a  divided  duty ; 
To  you,  I  am  bound  for  life  and  education  ; 
My  life  and  education  both  do  learn  me 
How  to  respect  you  ;  you  are  the  lord  of  duty. 
I  am  hitherto  your  daughter  ;  but  here's  my  husband, 
And  so  much  duty  as  my  mother  show'd 
To  you,  preferring  you  before  her  father, 
So  much  I  challenge  that  I  may  profess 
Due  to  the  Moor,  my  lord." 

As  the  play  progressed,  Alice's  feelings  were  excited  to 
the  strongest  indignation  against  the  treacherous,  wily  lago, 
when  he  had  stolen  the  handkerchief  and  poisoned  Othello's 
mind  with  jealousy. 

Still  hiding  her  eyes  behind  her  fan,  was  our  gentle 
novice,  in  box  No.  3,  as  she  whispered  to  the  Lieutenant, 
"  All  this  came  of  her  dropping  that  troublesome  little  hand 
kerchief  !" 

"  Oh  !  no,"  he  quickly  replied,  "  the  moral  of  the  play  is, 
that  no  woman  should  marry  a  foreigner,"  glancing  at  the 
Englishman,  who  seemed  half  pained  and  half  amused  at 
Alice's  emotion ;  but  could  not  help  laughing  at  Wallace's 
new  reading  of  Shakspeare. 

They  did  not  wait  for  the  farce,  and,  as  the  carriage  door 
closed  upon  a  whispered  "  good  night,"  Alice  vowed  that  , 
it  should  be  the  last  tragedy  she  would  go  to,  it  was  so;-' 
provoking  to  make  a  baby  of  one's  self,  and  to  cry  for 
nothing,  she  was  sure  she  should  dream  all  night  of  that 
horrible  Othello !     So  much  for  marrying  a  man  of  that 
complexion.  .  ^W* 

• 

- 


OR,     A      VOICE      FROM     THE     PAST.  4k 

Mounted  upon  a  full-blooded  filly,  in  her  dark  habit  and 
plumed  hat,  was  Alice  Vere,  holding  her  little  whip,  ano 
gathering  up  the  silken  reins  for  a  morning's  ride.  At 
her  side  was  the  Lieutenant,  and  Lucy  followed  on  a  spirited 
nag,  with  Howard  as  her  cavalier,  whilst  the  old  family 
groom  brought  up  the  rear. 

They  passed  quietly  through  the  town,  but,  when  they  had 
cleared  its  outskirts,  the  steeds  were  put  at  their  fastest  paces. 
How  charming  the  air  was,  how  exhilarating  the  exercise ! 
And  Wallace  exulted  over  his  friend,  the  Englishman,  as  he 
informed  Alice  that  they  had  left  Langdon  aj;  breakfast, 
engrossed  in  his  English  letters  and  newspapers.  "  He  was 
so  deep  in  one  epistle,  written  in  a  fair  girlish  hand,  that  he 
did  not  notice  that  Howard  and  myself  were  all  equipped  for 
our  ride.  And  what  a  glorious  day !  Do  you  not  think, 
Miss  Vere,  there  must  have  been  something  more  than  com 
monly  interesting  in  that  letter,  to  make  him  forego  the 
pleasure  of  a  ride  with  you  ? " 

Alice  colored,  and  slightly  tossed  her  pretty  head,  as  she 
answered,  "You  forget,  Mr.  Wallace,  that  Mr.  Langdon  never 
said  he  would  ride  with  us,  when  you  proposed  it  last  night ; 
and  as  for  his  letter,  why,  if  it  was  only  from  a  sister,  with 
news  from  home,  I  can  imagine  there  was  much  more 
attraction  in  it,  for  such  a  man,  than. a  ride  with  two  silly  girls 
like  Lucy  and  myself." 

"  Such  a  man  as  Langdon  ! "  echoed  Wallace.  "  You  have 
forgotten,  then,  my  advice  about  foreigners.  That  English- 

3 


50  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

man  would  be  as  jealous  as  Othello,  of  the  woman  lie 
loved." 

"And  would  you  play  his  lago  ?"  asked  his  gentle  inquisitor. 

"  I  would  go  to  the ahem !  beg  pardon,  to  win  your 

good  opinion,  Miss  Vere." 

The  lady  quietly  assured  him  he  would  not  increase  it,  by 
going  into  such  bad  company,  and  that  he  had  better  con 
tent  himself  with  plain  sailing  upon  a  safer  sea. 

They  had  now  reached  the  remains  of  an  old  family  bury 
ing  ground,  with  its  moss-grown  stones,  broken  and  dilapi 
dated,  under  the  shade  of  those  aged  oaks,  which  still  spread 
their  sheltering  branches  lovingly  over  the  neglected  and  for 
saken  graves. 

I  .have  paused  by  the  last  tenement  of  a  dear  and  well 
remembered  friend,  where  careful  hands  had  decked  the  grave 
with  flowers,  upon  whose  fair  entablature  the  record  of  those 
virtues  live,  which  in  the  memory  of  many  who  loved  that 
silent  sleeper  can  never  die,  and  I  have  stooped  to  pluck  a 
leaf  from  the  green  sod,  half  envying  that  repose.  Again, 
I  have  stood  beside  proud  monuments  of-the  wise  and  great, 
and  it  has  not  even  seemed  a  sad  thing  to  die,  as  they  did, 
for  their  destiny  was  accomplished  upon  earth.  But,  gentle 
reader,  brush  the  mildew  from  that  broken  stone,  see  the 
name  is  gone,  here  is  the  only  item  left,  "  aged  16;"  think 
of  all  that  once  was  bright  and  beautiful  placed  there,  in 
years  past,  by  fond  and  loving  hearts,  and  ask  yourself  if  it 
is  not  a  solemn  lesson,  this  lonely  and  deserted  grave  ?  with 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM     THE      PAST.  51 

none  but  the  birds  to  tune  their  wood-notes,  in  the  old  trees 
above  it,  with  only  Heaven's  dew  to  moisten  the  weeds  upon 
its  sunken  mound. 

Ah !  then  death  comes  home  to  us  in  its  true  desolation, 
to  be  thus  forgotten  and  unknown ;  save  by  that  watchful 
Eye  which  looks  down  upon  the  perishing  dust  of  mortal  man, 
with  a  father's  love,  and  in  whose  wise  Providence  every  atom 
is  secured ;  when  naught  is  left,  in  the  fast  waning  years  of 
fleeting  time,  for  human  eyes  or  human  hearts  to  cling  to. 

With  thoughts  less  serious  than  mine,  the  young  equestri 
ans  dismounted  to  examine  those  crumbling  stones,  bearing 
dates  which  were  scarcely  legible.  Not  far  off  were  the 
ruins  of  a  house,  still  showing,  in  its  blackened  walls,  the 
fierce  element  that  had  long  since  devastated  it 

Wallace  pointed  to  the  roofless  mansion,  saying,  "  There, 
Miss  Vere,  are  monuments  of  the  incendiary  English  you 
so  much  admire." 

"  Ah ! "  she  replied,  "  I  have  not  shut  up  my  books  so  long 
as  to  have  forgotten  the  dates  of  our  Revolutionary  war,  and  I 
hardly  think  that  time  would  have  left  such  mementoes  just  to 
oblige  your  patriotic  feelings  !  Come,  Lucy,  and  Mr.  Howard, 
you  have  studied  those  mouldy  relics  long  enough ;  it  is  time 
to  return." 

Again  they  bounded  along  the  road  to  town,  when  a  bril 
liant  yellow  phaeton  came  rattling  past,  and  who  should  they 
recognise,  in  its  precious  freight,  but  Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps, 
with  a  deep  crape  band  upon  his  well  brushed  beaver,  and 


52  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

a  servant  in  mourning  at  his  side.  Mr.  Adolplius  Pipps, 
gilded  by  half  a  million,  since  the  death  of  an  old  miserly 
uncle,  had  become  a  most  important  personage. 

So  evident  was  Lucy's  appreciation  of  the  handsome  equi 
page,  with  the  coat  of  arms  emblazoned  on  its  panels,  that 
Howard  slyly  asked,  "  Do  you  prefer  a  phaeton  to  a  curricle, 
Miss  Lucy  ?" 

This  mischievous  question  received  no  answer,  and  they 
were  soon  before  the  brick  front  of  the  old-fashioned  do 
micile. 

In  the  evening,  a  few  of  Mrs.  Vere's  friends  met  at  her 
card-table,  whilst  the  younger  of  the  party  amused  them 
selves  with  music  and  dancing. 

The  Englishman  was  there  making  up  for  lost  time,  and 
Wallace  trying  to  look  wretched  and  to  convince  Alice  that 
he  had  been  ordered  to  sea.  She  seemed  incredulous,  when 
Langdon  assured  her  that  "  the  Lieutenant  had  left  his  heart 
in  some  far  distant  port,  and  that  he  was  going  on  a  voyage 
of  discovery  after  it !" 

Wallace  declared  that  he  would  not  have  to  wander  far  to 
find  this  bit  of  property,  "  for  that  it  had  been  brought  to 
anchor  at  last  in  the  Home  squadron." 

Both  the  young  men  were  in  league  to  discover  the  mys 
tery  of  the  little  ring.  Something  whispered  that  there  was  a 
secret  in  its  being  worn  so  constantly,  and  her  blushing  cheek 
betrayed  her,  as  she  told  them  "  it  was  the  gift  of  a  very 
dear  friend." 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  .5S 

To  escape  any  closer  questioning  Alice  turned  to  Mr. 
Adolphus  Pipps,  who  appeared  at  a  most  fashionably  late 
hour,  elaborately  and  carefully  dressed  ;  her  hand  was  then 
claimed  for  a  cotillon,  by  a  friend  of  Arthur's,  and  Mr. 
Pipps  devoted  himself,  for  the  rest  of  the  evening,  to  Lucy 
Summers,  who  received  his  studied  attentions  with  finished 
coquetry. 

Poor  Miss  Murrell !  Her  image  was  swept  from  the  bosom 
of  her  faithless  knight,  and  Lucy,  in  youth  and  beauty,  reign 
ed  triumphant,  rising  like  the  phoenix  from  the  ashes  of 
that  innocent  "  first  love." 

Howard  inwardly  execrated  the  yellow  phaeton  which 
had  dashed  his  little  curricle,  or  his  hopes,  into  atoms ;  he 
had  fierce  thoughts  of  prosecuting  his  rival  and  of  recover 
ing  damages.  But  Lucy  had  too  much  tact  to  lose  sc 
gallant  an  admirer,  and  one  glance  of  her  lustrous  eyes  won 
him  back  to  his  allegiance. 

The  guests  were  gone,  and  Alice  was  standing  by  her  own 
fireside,  in  deep  thought,  twisting  the  ring  upon  her  finger; 
It  was  not  the  first  time  she  had  been  teased  about  it ;  she 
had  serious  ideas  of  putting  it  away,  very  safely.  . 

Was  Walter's  gift  so  soon  discarded  ?  No,  the  ring  was 
replaced,  but  the  faintest  echo  of  a  sigh  trembled  around 
that  little  circlet,  as  it  rested  again  upon  her  finger. 


54  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE: 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  moonbeams  were  glancing  brightly  upon  the  slumber 
ing  city,  silvering  the  roof-top  of  a  house  whose  inmates  were 
wrapped  in  sleep.  Not  a  light  gleamed  from  its  casements, 
the  sound  of  a  guitar  was  heard  beneath  the  window,  and  a 
rich,  full  voice  broke  the  silence  of  the  quiet  street. 

Starting  from  her  pillow,  Alice  eagerly  listened,  then 
stole  out  of  bed,  and  flew  to  wake  Lucy. 

It  was  Wallace's  voice  and  Howard's  flute  ;  the  girls  stood 
in  breathless  silence,  as  Moore's  beautiful  words  trembled,  in 
delicious  harmony,  upon  the  night. 

*'  Tho'  Love  and  Song-  may  fail,  alas  ! 

To  keep  life's  clouds  away, 
At  least  'twill  make  them  lighter  pass* 
Or  gild  them  if  they  stay. 

*  • '  If  ever  care  his  discord  flings 

O'er  life's  enchanted  strain, 
Let  love  but  gently  touch  the. strings, 
'Twill  all  be  sweet  again  !" 

Song  followed  song,  and  "  Auld  Robin  Gray"  left  Alice's 
soft  eyes  dim  with  tears.  Lucy  snatched  a  bouquet  from  a 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  55 

vase,  and,  before  her  friend  could  stay  the  hand,  the  flowers 
were  tossed  from  the  open  window. 

"  Oh  !  Lucy,  how  could  you  !"  exclaimed  Alice  ;  but  Lucy 
was  peeping  through  the  blinds,  and  said  eagerly,  "  Look, 
look !  at  Frank  Howard  and  your  naval  hero,  and  even  the 
magnificent  Englishman,  all  fighting  for  the  bouquet.  Ha ! 
Wallace  has  it,  at  last.  Well  he  deserved  it  for  making  you 
cry ;  tears  are  such  a  luxury  to  one  who  has  nothing  in  real 
life  to  weep  for,  I  wish  the  infection  were  catching !" 

The  serenaders  were  gone,  and  sleep  again  visited  those 
young  eyelids  ;  but  upon  the  brow  of  one  fair  dreamer  there 
is  an  expression  of  pain.  What  affrights  her  gentle  spirit 
thus  ?  See,  how  she  starts  ! — the  ring  upon  her  finger  has 
become  a  golden  serpent,  its  shining  folds  are  round  her  wrist ; 
now  it  coils  about  her  arm,  slowly  winding  its  glittering  length 
towards  her  heart ;  a  horrid  dread  creeps  over  her  shrinking 
frame,  she  dares  not  meet  its  charmed  gaze,  but  with  one 
desperate  effort,  raises  her  imprisoned  arm,  and,  with  a  loud 
cry,  flings  the  reptile  from  her. 

Cold  and  faint  with  terror,  she  woke.  In  an  instant  Lucy 
was  trembling  at  her  side,  asking  in  frightened  whispers 
what  had  happened ;  when  Alice  hurriedly  implored  her  to 
seek  a  light. 

The  taper  burnt  brightly,  and  she  saw  her  ring  unchanged, 
but  the  arm  upon  which  her  head  was  pillowed  felt  like  lead, 
and  remained  benumbed  until  the  blood  circulated,  once 
more,  freely  in  the  transparent  veins.  Lucy  placed  the  light 


56  ECHOESOFA    BELLE; 

behind  a  screen,  and  threw  herself  by  the  side  of  Alice,  until 
her  friend's  low  breathing  told  of  calmer  rest,  when  she  stole 
away  to  her  own  couch  in  the  next  room. 

At  breakfast  Alice  was  so  pale  that  her  mother  anxiously 
asked  if  she  was  well.  Fortunately  the  good  lady's  apart 
ment  was  not  on  the  side  of  the  house  that  the  serenaders 
had  chosen,  so  her  slumbers  had  not  been  disturbed. 

When  she  heard  it  was  only  a  dream  which  had  robbed 
Alice  of  her  roses,  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  impatiently 
with  an  exclamation  of  "  Nonsense,  child,  I  don't  believe  in 
such  stuff  as  dreams.  I  shall  be  glad  when  you  are  quietly 
back  at  The  Oaks  ;  these  late  hours  wont  do." 

The  girls  exchanged  a  look,  and  Alice  had  not  the  courage 
to  talk  of  last  night's  delightful  music,  for  Mrs.  Vere  thought 
all  reputable  people  should  be  in  bed  before  the  "small 
hours."  She  did  not  by  any  means  approve  of  midnight 
prowlers  under  ladies'  windows,  singing  love-sick  ditties ;  in 
her  days  such  things  were  never  heard  of! 

The  next  day  brought  letters  from  Walter  to  the  Major, 
and  one  to  Arthur  from  a  friend  who  was  travelling  in  com 
pany  with  young  Gray. 

Walter  merely  wrote  to  say  that  he  had  been  ill,  and  was 
detained  at  Rome,  being  still  too  weak  to  continue  his  jour 
ney  to  "  the  East,"  and  concluded  with  affectionate  remem 
brances  to  all  at  home. 

In  the  closely  written  pages  of  the  other  epistle,  Arthur's 
whole  attention  seemed  engrossed,  and  when  he  had  finished 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  57 

reading  the  letter,  he  handed  it  to  Alice,  saying,  "You  remem 
ber  Gaston,  and  may  like  to  hear  something  of  Walter." 

She  dared  not  read  it  before  them  all,  but  sought  her  own 
room  to  open  it  alone. 

"ROME,  January  29^  1810. 
"DEAR  VERB: 

"  Walter's  letters  have  told  you  how  we  chanced  to  meet 
in  Paris,  and  all  other  items  of  interest  were  duly  forwarded ; 
since  then,  we  have  journeyed  together  very  pleasantly,  until 
a  few  days  after  our  arrival  in  Rome,  when  Gray  became 
very  ill  from  the  effects  of  a  severe  cold  he  took  at  Leghorn. 
I  sent  for  the  best  physician  immediately,  but  the  disciples  of 
Esculapius,  here,  are  opposed  to  bleeding,  and  Walter's  fever 
increased  alarmingly. 

'  "  One  morning  I  had  left  his  side,  after  a  night  of  anxious 
watching,  to  cool  my  own  aching  head  by  a  breath  of  fresh 
air.  I  stood  lounging  before  the  door  of  our  hotel,  when  a 
carriage  drove  up,  and  a  lady  in  deep  mourning  alighted ;  as 
she  placed  her  foot  upon  the  step,  it  slipped,  and  she  would 
have  fallen  had  I  not  rushed  to  her  assistance.  Her  veil 
was  put  aside,  when  oh  !  ye  gods !  such  a  pair  of  eyes  met 
mine,  I  scarcely  heard  her  sweetly  murmured  thanks,  as  she 
glided  past  me  to  her  own  apartments. 

"  I  found  Walter  somewhat  refreshed  by  his  nap,  and  after 
I  had  received  the  doctor's  orders,  I  tried  to  read,  or  to  write 
up  my  journal,  but  I  could  not  sit  still  long  enough  to  accoin- 

2* 


58  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

plish  much,  and  I  never  rested  until  I  discovered  that  the 
fair  unknown '  occupied  the  rooms  just  below  us,  that  she 
was  the  widow  of  an  English  officer,  with  five  thousand 
pounds  per  annum,  and  the  mother  of  an  only  child. 

"  Not  long  after  this,  the  little  girl  was  seized  with  some 
sudden  indisposition,  when  the  same  physician  who  attends 
Walter,  happened  to  be  this  lady's  medical  adviser. 

"  He  mentioned  the  illness  of  the  young  American,  and  she 
became  so  much  interested  that  it  ended  in  discovering, 
through  me,  that  Walter  was  a  relative  ;  Colonel  Gray,  her 
deceased  husband,  being  own  cousin  to  Gray's  father.  After 
some  days  our  friend's  disease  took  a  more  favorable  turn, 
he  was  able  to  sit  up,  in  a  most  becoming  '  robe  de  cham- 
bre,'  looking  very  pale  and  interesting.  Many  tempting 
fruits  and  rare  flowers  were  sent  daily,  on  the  part  of  his 
fair  cousin,  whilst  I  made  occasions  for  meeting  her  on  the 
stairs,  or  for  receiving  a  bow  from  her  carriage  on  the 
*  Corso,'  and  went  home  to  dream  of  that  angelic  face  for 
the  rest  of  the  day.  How  provoking  was  Gray's  languid 
apathy,  as  I  raved  of  her  perfections ! 

"  As  soon  as  he  was  strong  enough  to  acknowledge,  in 
person,  her  many  little  kindnesses,  he  sent  his  card  to 
announce  a  visit,  and  the  lady  received  us  with  a  most  en 
chanting  grace. 

"  The  little  girl  was  clinging  to  her  mother's  hand,  but  there 
was  something  in  Gray's  face  which  won  the  child  to  his 
side,  and  she  was  soon  chattering  gaily  to  him  in  French. 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  59 

"  The  lovely  Mrs.  Millicent  Gray  complimented  me  upon 
my  excellent  care  and  successful  nursing,  and  praises,  from 
such  lips,  are  enough  to  turn  the  brain  of  any  man ;  even 
Walter  seemed  struck  by  the  liquid  music  of  her  voice. 

"  The  child  climbed  upon  his  knee,  and  her  large  blue  eyes 
were  closing  fast  in  sleep,  when  the  French  '  Bonne'  carried 
her  off  to  bed. 

"  We  sat  talking  pleasantly  for  hours,  and  when  we  rose 
to  take  our  leave,  she  gave  her  hand  to  Gray,  whilst  I  only 
received  a  gracious  inclination  of  her  beautiful  head. 

"  Here  is  an  adventure  for  you,  surpassing  all  I  have  met 
before ;  I  can  think  or  speak  of  nothing  but  this  bewitching 
widow,  and  must  refer  you  to  Walter's  journal  for  more 
serious .  matter.  We  both  left  Paris  disgusted  with  Napo 
leon's  repudiation  of  his  wife ;  not  even  his  boundless  am 
bition  can  excuse  the  immolation  of  such  a  heart  as  Jose 
phine's.  All  Europe  holds  its  breath,  and  seems  to  tremble 
beneath  the  tread  of  that  mighty  genius.  Where  has  he  not 
left  the  impress  of  his  power  ?  From  Italy  to  Egj^,  from 
Austria  to  poor  struggling,  bleeding  Spain,  there  is  but  one 
thought,  one  impulse,  and  *  Napoleon '  greets  you  at  every 
turn. 

"  How  small,  how  petty  we  ant-like  creatures  seem,  in  our 
common  humanity,  swarming  over  the  face  of  the  globe, 
and  sinking  into  insignificance,  as  we  contemplate  the 
splendor  of  those  deeds  whose  fame  no  time  can  erase. 

"  Walter  still  speaks  of  going  to  the  East,  but  what  are  the 


60  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

Nile  and  the  Pyramids  after  Rome,  what  land  can  be  holier 
to  me  than  Italy  ?  So  I  do  not  accompany  him  in  his  future 
wanderings. 

"  We  shall  keep  him  here  studying  the  '  Eternal  City' 
until  he  is  quite  strong  enough  to  take  care  of  himself.  Our 
days  are  spent  among  solemn  antiquities,  and  our  evenings 
in  the  *  salon'  of  a  divinity,  the  fascination  of  whose  beauty 
I  cannot  describe.  I  doubt  Walter's  being  so  stoical  as  to 
resist  such  perfection,  especially  when  his  fair  relative  has 
shown  such  a  tender  interest  in  his  convalescence,  and 
lavishes  upon  him  her  brightest  smiles. 

"  You  will  think  me  mad,  unless  you  have  given  up  your 
hermit  life,  with  your  old  law-books,  and  some  warmer  love 
has  replaced  that  fair  sister  in  your  heart. 

"  Write  soon,  and  tell  me  all  the  news  at  home. 
"  Yours  truly, 

"FRED.  GASTON." 


This  ing  letter  was  read  rapidly  at  first,  and  then  more 
slowly.  Walter  had  been  ill,  and  the  thought  filled  Alice's 
heart  with  overflowing  tenderness,  when  a  sudden  flush 
suffused  her  cheek,  and  the  Ring  was  no  longer  upon  her 
finger  ;  for  the  serpent  of  her  dream  had  indeed  twined  its 
way  to  that  gentle  heart.  Ah  !  how  sharp  its  sting  !  False 
Viper  !  it  had  troubled  those  pure  depths  of  trusting  faith 
it  had  tarnished  the  jewel  of  confiding  truth. 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  01 

That  night  Cooper  played,  as  Petruchio,  before  a  crowded 
house ;  Alice's  box  was  the  centre  of  attraction,  never  had 
she  appeared  more  brilliant. 


"  Her  words  they  robbed  the'Hybla  be< 
And  left  them  honeylews." 


02  ECIIOES    OF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MR.  ADOLPHUS  PIPPS  was  the  constant  and  devoted  admire! 
of  Lucy  Summers,  and  one  auspicious  morning  she  received 
an  elegantly  perfumed  billet,  with  a  most  overwhelming 
coat  of  arms,  sealing  a  request  for  a  private  interview. 

In  a  spacious  saloon,  with  crimson  damask  curtains,  small 
oval  mirrors,  and  heavy  chandeliers  pendent  from  the 
stuccoed  ceiling,  Lucy  sat,  half  reclining  upon  a  sofa,  her 
beautiful  arm  resting  on  a  cushion,  and  her  eyes  upon  a 
book. 

Her  face  was  pale  as  marble,  and  in  the  expression  of  her 
mouth  •re  was  determination  and  resolution  of  purpose, 
as  if  she  had  stifled  the  small,  still  voice  which  warned  her 
not  to  resist  its  secret  pleadings ;  she  looked  like  one  who 
had  strung  every  nerve  to  accomplish  a  sacrifice,  the  dese 
cration  of  her  own  heart  with  all  its  young  hopes,  its  truest 
sympathies. 

At  the  sound  of  a  measured  step,  her  lip  trembled  for  an 
instant ;  Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps  made  his  most  profound- bow, 
and  then  calm  and  unmoved  she  listened  to  his  impassioned 
declaration.  Half  a  million  was  kneeling  at  her  feet ;  sho 


OR,     A    VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  63 

had  but  to  put  forth  her  hand,  to  speak  one  little  word,  and 
wealth  and  power  would  be  her  own,  no  longer  need  she  be 
poor  and  dependent. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  ;  then  the  word  was  spoken 
very  slowly,  and  the  hand  pressed  to  her  lover's  lips.  But 
there  was  a  condition  exacted,  and  the  astonished  Mr.  Pipps 
heard  that  an  obstacle  still  stood  in  the  way  of  his  happiness, 
as  she  added,  "  Nothing  could  induce  me,  Sir,  to  bear  your 
euphonious  cognomen ;  much  as  I  honor  its  owner,  I  could 
never  survive  the  name  of  Mrs.  Pipps."  With  all  his  high 
self-appreciation  and  perfect  command  of  temper,  the  blood 
tingled  in  every  vein,  as  Lucy's  light  laugh  smote  upon  his 
heart.  He  recoiled  from  his  beautiful  illusion,  as  if  stung  ; 
but  Lucy  mistook  not  her  power,  he  could  not  lightly  resign 
so  fair  a  prize ;  there  was  but  one  alternative — most  adroitly 
was  it  presented,  and  so  sweetly  pleaded,  that  the  elegant 
bachelor  consented  to  the  time-honored  name  of  "  Pipps" 
being  changed,  by  an  act  of  the  Legislature,  to  his  irrbther's 
less  obtrusive  family  name  of  "  Wilson."  His  promise  was 
sacredly  given,  and  Lucy  Summers  left  that  room  the 
affianced  bride  of  a  man  more  than  twenty  years  her 
senior. 

Not  to  her  gentle  friend  was  the  result  of  this  interview 
made  known,  by  the  lady  herself.  Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps 
informed  the  Major  of  his  engagement,  with  its  conditions. 
Whilst  Mrs.  Vere  looked  over  the  top  of  her  spectacles,  with 
her  keen  grey  eyes,  and  said,  in  an  under  tone,  "  Umph ! 


64  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

ashamed  of  your  name ;"  and  then  went  on  knitting  so 
vigorously,  that  she  did  not  even  vouchsafe  an  acknowledg 
ment  of  his  bow. 

Lucy  did  not  appear  until  evening ;  she  was  still  very  pale, 
and  seemed  determined  to  avoid  meeting  Alice's  eye.  Mr. 
Pipps  joined  them  at  tea,  and  before  he  left  that  night, 
a  magnificent  diamond,  an  heirloom  in  the  Pipps  family, 
sparkled  upon  Lucy's  finger. 

Alice  could  not  sleep;  she  rose  and  passed  softly 
into  Lucy's  room,  to  find  her  still  up  and  dressed ;  her 
bright  eyes  seemed  supernaturally  large,  as  Alice  knelt  at 
her  feet.  Looking  beseechingly  into  her  face,  she  faltered 
out, "  Oh  !  Lucy,  what  does  this  mean  ?  Tell  me,  are  you 
happy,  will  you  not  regret  the  step  you  have  taken  ?" 

Lucy  stooped  to  kiss  that  fair  brow,  as  she  answered,  "  Do 
not  question  me,  dear  child,  about  the  future,  for  that  I  can 
not  read,  and  with  the  present  I  must  not  quarrel,  since  it  is 
the  election  of  my  own  free  will ;  your  guileless  nature  can 
not  understand  one  so  heartless  and  so  worldly  as  I  am, 
Alice — but,  look  at  this  pretty  bauble  on  my  finger,  it  would 
not  shame  a  queenly  hand,  and  he  is  a  right  royal  lover 
mine  I  When  that  odious  name  of  '  Pipps'  is  consigned  to 
oblivion,  I  shall  learn  to  like  him  well  enough,  and  he 
will  make  me  a  better  husband  than  that  scapegrace 
Howard !" 

As  Alice  sank  to  sleep,  she  murmured,  "  Can  a  diamond 
ring  buy  such  a  heart  ?" 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  65 

Gossip  was  busy  with  this  new  revelation ;  many  were  the 
uplifted  hands,  the  whisperings  over  tea  and  muffins. 

There  were  frequent  ejaculations  of  "  How  shocking !  aL 
for  money.  La !  I  wonder  how  the  poor  man  can  be  so 
blind  -as  to  fancy  she  cares  for  him  ;  well,  she  will  lead  him 
a  pretty  dance !" 

And  how  gleefully  the  palms  met  together,  as  they  seem 
ed  to  clap  exultingly  over  the  downfall  of  poor  Mr.  Pipps. 


Lucy  was  again  seated  in  the  drawing-room, 

but  it  was  with  a  younger  and  a  handsomer  man  than  the 
precise  millionnaire. 

Her  head  was  averted,  and  her  long,  fair  curls  half  hid  the 
shadows  that  swept  like  storm-clouds  across  her  face. 

Howard,  in  that  low  deep  tone  that  sounds  like  the  smo 
thered  anguish  of  a  heart  in  chaos,  cried  out,  "  No,  Lucy,  I 
will  not,  cannot  believe  it ;  your  own  lips  will  pronounce  it 
false.  Answer  me,  are  you  the  promised  bride  of  that  man  ? 
I  cannot  speak  his  name,  it  seems  such  a  mockery  to  think 
of  you  as  '  Mrs.'  Pipps  !" 

Proud  and  erect,  with  lightning  flashing  from  her  eyes, 
she  met  his  reckless  laugh,  replying  in  a  firm,  unfaltering 
voice — 

"  It  is  the  name,  sir,  of  a  gentleman  and  an  honorable 
man,  a  name  which  no  act  of  his  has  ever  sullied  or  dis 
graced  ;  but  even  here  your  sarcasm  falls  powerless,  for  so 
strong  is  my  will,  that  Lucy  Summers  will  never  be  Mrs. 


66  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

Adolphus  Pipps.  Nay,  think  not  that  I  would  break  my 
troth  so  lightly.  My  hand  is  his,  but  under  a  contract  which 
shall  make  him  cast  his  name  aside,  like  a  garment  it  does 
not  please  my  fancy  to  assume ;  and  inethinks  his  good  mo 
ther  will  bless  me,  from  her  grave,  for  restoring,  in  honor 
and  pride,  the  long  forgotten  and  humble  line  of  Wilson." 

Howard  gazed  sadly  upon  her  majestic  beauty,  as  he 
whispered,  "  Oh !  Lucy — so  fair,  yet  so  cold,  so  early  fallen 
from  all  that  makes  life  beautiful,  so  false  to  every  hope  of 
youth,  so  callous  to  the  sacredness  of  love !  And  I,  who  wor 
shipped,  who  cherished  you,  I  would  have  died  to  win  that 
heart,  which  has  cast  away  my  poor  love  without  a  sigh." 

Why  swayed  that  tall  form  like  a  reed  before  the  blast, 
what  fierce  tempest  bowed  her  spirit  to  the  dust,  as  soft 
drops  fell  from  those  downcast  eyes,  and  she  stretched  out 
her  hand  to  ask  for  mercy,  murmuring,  "  You  wrong  me, 
Howard.  Judge  me  not  so  harshly ;  be  calm,  and  I  will  tell 
you  a  tale  of  childhood  which  will  plead  for  me,  perhaps, 
and  leave  you  still  my  earnest  friend. 

"  I  knew  a  simple  girl,  who  at  an  early  age  was  so  gentle 
and  so  yielding,  she  might  have  been  incited  to  the  best  and 
noblest  aspirations. 

"  Among  her  brothers  and  sisters  there  played  the  son  of 
her  father's  friend,  a  high-spirited,  daring  boy  ;  one  glance  of 
his  dark  eye  could  bend  her  to  his  lightest  will ;  he  protected 
her,  in  their  noisy  games,  with  his  strong  arm,  and  she  loved 
him,  as  unconsciously  as  the  flowers  drink  in  light. 


OB,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  6*7 

"  He  was  sent  away  to  school,  but  had  promised  never  to 
forget  his  little  playmate. 

"  They  did  not  meet  again  for  years ;  he  had  grown  into  a 
tall,  handsome  lad,  she  had  now  become  portionless  and 
dependent  upon  the  bounty  of  his  parents.  Her  heart  spoke 
plainly — she  dared  not  heed  its  tumultuous  beatings.  • 

"  He  was  very  kind,  but  seemed  to  have  left  his  boyhood, 
with  its  childish  hopes,  behind  him;  he  only  thought  of 
manhood  with  its  strong  ambitions,  its  new  and  daring 
impulses.  A  life  of  conflict  and  of  danger  was  his  choice. 
She  hid  her  earnest  feelings  in  careless  mirth,  and  he  never 
guessed  the  true,  warm  heart,  which  so  fondly  treasured  his 
every  look,  his  every  word. 

"  Then  came  the  time  for  parting.  He  was  going  far 
away,  to  distant  lands. 

"  His  eye  rested  thoughtfully  upon  her  for  a  passing 
mon^snt,  and  the  crimson  flush  upon  her  cheek  died  out, 
only  to  burn  more  intensely  in  her  secret  soul.  Poor  child  ! 
how  she  suffered  as  his  calm  farewell  fell  upon  her  ear ! 

"  Time  flew,  and  she  became  a  woman,  ambitious  only  of 
securing  what  alone  was  left  her  to  care  for  in  life." 

Lucy  had  ceased  to  speak,  her  hand  was  raised  to  How 
ard's  lips,  and  he  left  her  a  saddened  and  more  thoughtful 
man. 


68  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  V. 

IT  was  the  last  ball  of  the  season.  Mrs.  Vere's  rooms  were 
brilliantly  lighted,  and  the  long  piazza  opening  from  the 
drawing-room  was  inclosed  and  hung  with  garlands  of  flow 
ers,  while  lights,  twinkling  like  stars,  made  soft  moonlight  in 
that  pleasant  promenade. 

Alice  never  looked  more  enchanting. 

The  Lieutenant  was  there  very  devoted,  of  course,  but 
somewhat  depressed  by  having  received  actual  orders  to  sea ; 
and  the  bevy  of  beaux,  around  his  beautiful  little  craft, 
seemed  to  his  excited  imagination  a  most  piratical  $rew. 
Even  Langdon  left  him  far  "  to  leeward ;"  and,  in  his  elegance 
of  manner  and  address,  he  certainly  was  no  contemptible 
rival. 

Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps  was  too  well  bred  to  devote  himself 
exclusively  to  his  lovely  "  fiancee,"  and  Lucy  still  attracted 
by  her  sparkling  wit,  men  of  taste  and  learning  to  her  side. 

Poor  Howard  fluttered  about  her,  like  a  moth  that  could 
not  keep  away  from  the  flame  which  consumed  it. 

As  the  band  struck  up  a  march,  supper  was  announced ; 
pyramids  of  flowers  decked  with  little  flesh-colored  cupids, 


OR,      A     VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  69 

ornamented  the  large  "  Plateau  "  in  the  centre  of  the  table. 
All  that  the  most  delicate  palate  could  approve  was  offered 
to  the  ladies,  and,  when  they  retired,  supper  was  served  for 
the  gentlemen. 

Amidst  the  general  appreciation  of  the  Major's  old  Madeira 
and  Port,  Wallace  made  his  escape  with  the  ladies,  as  he 
whispered  to  Alice — 

"  You  must  not  drive  me  from  you,  or  shorten  the  few 
moments  of  happiness  which  remain  to  me,  in  your  society." 

They  reached  the  piazza,  and  were  standing  alone,  amidst 
the  garlands  and  the  softened  light,  when  Alice  said,  "  I  am 
really  very  sorry  you  are  going  to  leave  us,  we  shall  all  miss 
you  so  much ;  I,  for  one,  shall  often  think  of  those  gay  '  but 
tons.'  " 

"  And  of  nothing  more  ?  "  he  murmured.  "  It,  is,  indeed, 
presumptuous  in  me  to  say  that  I  love  you,  for  I  have  nothing 
but  an  honest  heart  and  an  untarnished  honor  to  offer,  and 
these,  I  fear,  are  valueless  in  your  eyes." 

A  sweet  low  voice  replied,  "  Nay,  you  know  not  Alice 
Vere,  if  you  think  she  scorns  the  homage  of  so  true  a  heart, 
— an  affection  she  is  so  proud  of,  that  it  only  pains  her  the 
more  deeply  to  feel  she  cannot  return  it." 

"  Is  there  no  hope,  Alice  ?"  pleaded  his  quivering  lip.  "  Must 
I  go  forth  again  a  desolate  wanderer  upon  my  ocean  home  ? " 

Alice's  kind  heart  ached  with  pity ;  her  little  hand  was 
placed  lightly  upon  his  arm,  as  she  whispered, 

"  You  will  live  to  bless  me  yet,  for  what  you  now  suffer." 


70  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

"  You  are  indeed  an  angel  of  mercy,"  faltered  Wallace ; 
"  but  I  shall  never  love  again ;  there  is  no  woman  on  earth,  to 
whom  I  would  offer  a  broken,  ruined  heart." 

"Nay,"  reasoned  his  gentle  comforter,  "you  will  find  an 
antidote  which  will  soon  banish  me  from  your  memory ;  I 
shall  ever  watch,  with  a  sister's  tenderness,  over  your  fate." 

Footsteps  approached  them ;  it  was  Arthur,  in  search  of  the 
lost  Pleiad,  and  she  returned  to  the  ball-room,  leaning  upon 
Wallace's  arm,  just  as  the  gay  company  were  dispersing. 

Alice  was  breakfasting  with  Lucy,  in  her  dressing-room ; 
they  were  chatting  over  their  chocolate,  when  Lisette  pre 
sented  a  note  to  her  young  mistress,  who  broke  the  seal  and 
read, 

"  8  HOTEL,  March  20M. 

"  I  cannot  trust  myself  to  see  you  again,  Alice,  sad  as  it 
is  to  leave  without  one  glimpse  of  that  dear  face  ;  I  feel  it  is 
best,  for  I  have  no  right  to  pain  you  by  the  sight  of  my 
distress. 

"  I  send  you  some  flowers ;  they  are  my  last  offering,  and 
will  not  be  refused.  Long  before  they  have  withered,  I  shall 
be  upon  the  broad  Atlantic.  Many  will  love  you,  Alice,  bit 
none  with  a  truer,  higher  devotion  than  mine. 

"  Your  memory  will  be  to  me  a  guardian  angel. — Farewell, 
my  heart  is  breaking,  as  I  write  the  word ;  how  could  I  speak 
it! 

"  Ever  yours  devotedly, 

"EDWARD  WALLACE." 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM      THE     PAST.  7 1 

Lucy  suspected  some  tender  confession,  and  Alice's  tear 
ful  face  confirmed  the  fact,  as  she  hurried  from  the  table  to 
her  writing-desk,  and  wrote  with  a  trembling  hand : 

"Mr  DEAR  FRIEND: 

"I  have  received  your  beautiful  flowers,  and  there  are 
tears  in  my  eyes  as  I  thank  you  for  them.  When  my  bou 
quet  is  faded,  I  shall  plant  the  geranium  in  a  vase,  and  on 
your  return  you  will  see  how  carefully  I  have  tended  it 
for  your  sake. 

"  Think  of  me  as  a  sister,  and  accept  the  little  seal  I  send 
by  Arthur.  If  I  cannot  bid  you  hope,  I  wish  you  in  its 
own  words,  'peace.' 

"  That  God  may  guide  and  bless  you,  is  the  prayer  of 
"Your  true  friend, 

"ALICE  VERB." 

Turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  heavy  folio  in  the  library, 
stood  Arthur  Vere,  as  the  door  softly  opened,  and  his  sister's 
sweet  face  peeped  in  inquiringly. 

"Do  you  want  me,  Alice  ? "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  Arthur,  I  have  come  to  beg  you  to  give  this  note  to 
Mr.  Wallace ;  I  know  you  are  going  to  see  him  before  he 
leaves." 

Their  eyes  met,  and  then  quickly  she  hid  them  upon  his 
shoulder,  as  he  whispered,  "Tell  me,  dear  sister,  have  you 
sent  your  heart  to  sea  with  that  wild  rover  ?  There  are  no 
secrets  between  us." 


72  ECHOES    OF    A    BELL'E; 

"No,  brother,"  sighed  Alice,  "I  am  very  sorry  for  Edward 
Wallace.  We  have  parted  friends,  nothing  more." 

Arthur  drew  her  more  tenderly  towards  him,  as  he  bade 
her  not  imagine  her  lover  inconsolable.  "Ned  is  a  merry, 
light-hearted  fellow,"  he  added ;  "  I  have  myself  heard  him 
say  that  he  never  went  into  port  without  falling  in  love, 
but  that  the  first  dash  of  salt-water  washed  it  all  out  again. 
And  I  have  no  doubt  he  is  refreshed  by  every  new  plunge." 

Alice  could  not  help  laughing,  as  she  brushed  away  her 
tears,  and  Arthur  received  the  little  box  containing  the 
keepsake  for  his  friend. 

"I  shall  never  love  any  one  as  I  do  that  brother,"  solilo 
quized  Alice. 

And  well  he  deserved  the  devotion  of  her  loving  heart. 
The  ripening  fruit  of  that  choice  vine  clustered  around 
the  parent  stem,  and  promised  glorious  recompense  to  the 
faithful  bough,  which  had  nurtured  its  first  light  tendrils  into 
expanding  strength. 

In  a  trial  of  intense  interest,  that  long  engrossed  the  judi 
cial  courts,  Arthur  Vere  had  distinguished  himself  as  a  most 
able  pleader. 

His  closing  argument  was  a  masterly  stroke  ;  amidst  the 
profound  silence  of  a  crowded  court,  whilst  those  soul-stirring 
words  still  vibrated,  the  venerable  judge  upon  the  bench  had 
paid  honorable  tribute  to  the  powerful  eloquence  of  the  appeal. 
It  was  a  proud  moment,  when  those  early  laurels  lent  their 
lustre  to  a  father's  name,  and  crowned  with  honor  the  silvery 
threads  upon  his  brow. 


OR.      A      VOICE      FROM     THE     PAST.  75 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IT  was  the  last  day  of  March ;  the  coach  was  at  the  door, 
piled  with  boxes  and  baskets  ;  Mrs.  Vere  with  Alice  and  Lucy 
were  packed  into  different  corners,  whilst  the  Major  took 
the  lead,  in  an  open  carriage,  and  the  family  left  town  for 
The  Oaks. 

How  delightful  it  is,  after  months  spent  within  the  city 
walls,  to  escape  from  the  trammels  of  fashion  and  society, 
and  to  be  alone  again  with  your  own  thoughts  !  Even  if 
there  should  come  unbidden  memories  or  sad  regrets  to 
haunt  your  solitude,  they  will  bear  you  "  healing  on  their 
wings,"  and,  in  nature's  temple,  your  soul  will  be  tuned  to 
nobler  anthems,  amidst  the  orisons  of  this  beautiful  creation, 
as  you  trace  the  hand  of  God  in  every  flower  that  springs 
beneath  your  feet,  in  eveiy  rill  that  sparkles  on  your  way. 

It  was  night,  and  the  solemn  shadows  of  the  old  oaks 
were  sleeping  upon  the  earth  ;  the  moon  peeped  through  her 
fleecy  veil,  beautiful  as  the  ministering  stars  around  her. 
Alice  was  standing  at  an  open  window ;  her  gentle  spirit 
knelt  before  the  throne  of  the  Eternal,  asking  guidance  from 
on  High.  Never  had  her  quiet  home  seemed  so  dear  to  her. 


74  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

And  now  the  sweet  chorister  of  that  southern  clime  poured 
forth  his  song  to  the  night,  in  one  wild  strain  of  melody.  As 
he  trilled  out  his  imitative  lay,  one  might  distinguish  in  the 
variety  of  his  notes,  many  collections  from  other  vocalists  of 
the  grove  ;  there  were  even  snatches  from  the  homely  cackle 
of  the  domestic  fowl,  and  the  deep  bass  of  the  croaking  frog 
in  the  brook,  as  if  he  were  making  sport  of  them  all  to 
amuse  his  gentle  mate,  and  to  fascinate  her  still  more  by  con 
trasting  his  own  wondrous  powers,  as  he  warbled  forth  his 
thrilling  song  of  love. 

Arthur  Vere  was  detained  in  town  by  business,  and 
Langdon  sauntered,  from  the  mere  force  of  habit,  to  the 
familiar  brick  mansion. 

He  found  our  young  bachelor  holding  out  in  solitary 
grandeur,  and,  as  he  sank  into  a  chair,  exclaimed,  "  'Pon  my 
soul,  Vere,  I  can't  stand  this  much  longer,  the  place  has 
become  so  intolerably  dull." 

Arthur,  to  console  such  desolation  of  spirit,  invited  him 
to  dine  upon  a  most  inimitable  "cooter  stew,"  and  his 
friend's  sinking  soul  revived  under  these  benevolent  auspices. 

Now,  the  said  Reginald  Langdon  had  been  the  cause  of 
some  discussion  between  the  Major  and  his  lady.  Having 
brought  letters  from  old  and  highly  valued  friends  in  Eng 
land,  Major  Vere  had  proposed  asking  him  to  accompany 
Arthur  on  a  visit  to  The  Oaks.  This  invitation  was,  of 
course,  first  submitted  to  the  approbation  of  his  wife,  when 
the  poor  Major's  benevolent  plans  were  scattered  to  the 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  75 

winds,  as  Mrs.  Vere  indignantly  assured  the  discomfited 
veteran  that  "it  would  not  do."  Shaking  her  head,  she 
continued,  "  You  have  paid  the  young  man  every  civility ; 
if  you  mew  him  up,  for  a  week,  in  the  country  with  Alice, 
who  knows  what  might  happen  !  and  the  world  would  say  we 
were  scheming  for  a  brilliant  match,  it  would  be  so  grand 
to  secure  a  title  in  the  family.  Pshaw !  I  don't  wish  the  child 
to  marry  for  these  ten  years  to  come." 

The  good  Major  was  silenced,  if  not  convinced,  as  he 
"  took  refuge  behind  the  columns  of  his  newspaper." 

Mrs.  Vere  had  married  late  in  life,  and  there  were  some 
whispers  of  an  early  romance,  whose  poesy  had  filled  that 
calm  heart  with  love's  first  euphony ;  but  the  magical  lute 
was  shattered,  and  the  hand  that  woke  its  fairy  numbers 
lay  cold  in  death.  That  early  dream  might  linger  still,  in 
hallowed  thought,  but  her  lightest  breath  had  never  lent  a 
voice  to  the  sacred  memory. 

Another  suitor  claimed,  in  later  days,  the  lady'a  hand; 
again  she  loved,  but  it  was  with  a  more  measured  and  a 
wiser  experience.  As  a  wife,  she  was  happy  in  the  devotion 
of  an  excellent  husband ;  and  as  a  mother,  dear  reader,  you 
have  already  known  her. 

Lucy  Summers  had  returned  to  her  own  humble  home, 
and  Alice  found  companionship  in  her  books.  What  new 
and  exhaustless  resources,  in  her  communion  with  those 
great  minds ;  how  eagerly  she  followed  the  illustrious  scho 
lar,  poet,  or  historian,  in  their  vivid  thoughts,  thoughts  which. 


76  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

have  become  immortal  links  in  that  vast  chain  connecting 
matter  with  Infinity. 

Letters  had  been  received  from  Jocelin,  saying  that  his 
ship  had  been  ordered  home,  before  the  expiration  of  the 
cruise,  and  that  he  hoped  to  meet  them,  about  the  last  of 
June,  in  New  York,  as  his  mother  wrote  they  were  to  pass 
the  summer  at  the  north.  Both  Mrs.  Vere  and  Alice  had 
tried  to  persuade  Arthur  that  he  could  not  be  left  alone,  but 
he  was  unwilling  to  desert  his  office  and  its  duties,  and  pro 
mised  to  join  them  later. 

Many  and  busy  were  the  preparations  at  The  Oaks  for  this 
momentous  journey  ;  there  were  medicines  to  be  concocted, 
receipts  written  out  for  the  plantation,  and  the  summer  cloth 
ing  to  be  distributed  to  the  people. 

Alice  was  amusing  herself  in  getting  up  the  trousseau  of 
her  waiting-maid,  Lisette,  and  in  sorting  out  all  her  old 
ribbons  and  flowers  for  the  occasion.  The  consent  of  Major 
and  Mrs.  Vere  had  been  obtained,  by  the  bashful  Primus, 
and  an  early  day  was  fixed  for  the  wedding. 

Most  liberal  donations  were  allowed  for  the  supper,  and 
the  bridal  cake  was  iced  by  Alice's  own  hand.  If  it  might 
have  been  a  shade  whiter,  or  more  evenly  frosted,  in  the 
eyes  of  the  grateful  Lisette  it  was  a  most  faultless  work 
of  art. 

And  now  the  eventful  time  had  come;  the  bride  was 
decked  in  white,  contrasting  most  strongly  her  ebon  charms ; 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  77 

a  snowy  wreath  had  replaced  the  gay  bandanna,  and  Alice 
had  sent  for  her,  to  inspect  her  dress  before  the  ceremony. 
There  was  much  tittering  and  whispering  behind  the  door,  as 
Lisette  tried  to  compose  herself,  before  entering  the  room ; 
she  then  stood  timidly  forward  for  an  instant,  hid  her  laugh 
ing  face  in  her  broad  palm,  dropped  a  low  courtesy,  and  dis 
appeared. 

They  were  married ;  and  Lisette's  pearly  teeth  were  smil 
ing  behind  her  turkey-tail  fan,  as  she  held  the  hand  of  her 
groom,  who  looked  most  imposing,  in  a  brass-buttoned  coat, 
yellow  vest,  and  high  shirt  collars,  in  which  his  own  shining 
physiognomy  seemed  to  dilate,  in  a  broad  grin  of  delight. 

Daddy  Jim's  fiddle  played  a  lively  jig,  which  soon  lent 
wings  to  their  heels,  and  they  danced  until  supper  time, 
when  even  the  bride  was  not  too  delicate  to  enjoy  the  sub 
stantial  fare.  The  feast  was  prolonged  until  midnight,  when 
Old  Fortune  gave  his  blessing  to  the  married  pair,  and  the 
company  retired  "  en  masse ;"  wending  their  way  to  the  Set 
tlement,  with  one  of  their  own  wild  melodies,  sung  in  that 
low,  quick  recitative  by  the  leading  voice,  and  then  caught 
up  in  full  chorus  by  the  others,  in  perfect  time  and  harmony. 

How  often,  as  a  boy,  have  I  drifted  slowly  down  the  quiet 
river,  in  my  canoe,  listening  to  their  croning  chant  over  the 
dead,  or  their  holiday  hymns  of  praise ;  and  the  wild  duck  has 
winged  its  way  far  beyond  the  range  of  my  gun,  before  I  woke 
from  my  dreamy  thoughts,  lulled  into  forgetfulness  by  those 
distant  strains  of  untutored  music.  And,  again,  I  remember 


78  EC  HOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

when  my  father,  in  all  the  pride  of  manhood,  sat  in  the  stern 
of  his  own  barge,  whilst  my  mother,  beneath  the  awning, 
Was  surrounded  by  bright  little  faces,  clustering  at  her  knee. 
The  men,  in  their  uniform  of  blue  and  white,  sang  to  the 
measured  stroke  of  the  oars ;  and  even  now,  I  can  recall  an 
original  improvisation,  as  they  extolled  their  master's  worth, 
and  after  wishing  him  every  joy  on  earth,  wound  up  with 
the  ultimatum  of  human  happiness,  in  this  chorus — 

"  A  siller  spade  to  dig'e  grave, 
A  goulin  chain  to  let  urn  down  !" 

The  river  flows  on ;  but  the  barge,  and  its  light-hearted 
freight,  where  have  they  sped  ? 

Upon  the  broad  ocean  of  Eternity,  a  bright  ray  glances, 
from  those  unseen  wings,  soaring  in  trackless  glory,  far 
beyond  this  silent  shore,  where  the  hoarse  waves  murmur,  in 
ceaseless  flow,  and  my  weary  heart  responds — 

"  I  shall  go  to  them,  but  they  shall  not  return  to  me." 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      TH-E      PAST.  *79 


CHAPTER  VII. 

UPON  the  same  fallen  tree,  where,  two  years  since,  Walter 
had  crowned  his  fairy  queen,  Alice  was  seated,  reading  Mil 
ton's  "  Paradise  Lost."  She  was  unconscious  of  the  waning 
time,  when  the  rustle  of  steps  among  the  leaves  sent  a 
strange,  thrilling  pain  to  her  heart ;  the  name  of  "  Walter" 
sprang  to  her  lips,  and  then  died  away  as  quickly,  for  reason 
told  her  he  was  far  beyond  the  compass  of  her  voice,  and 
chiding  her  idle  fancy,  she  looked  up  to  greet  her  brother. 

He  had  a  letter  in  his  hand  from  Gaston ;  as  he  held  it 
towards  her,  he  said :  "  I  know  not  whether  to  show  you 
this,  although  it  is  amusing,  and  speaks  of  Walter."  "  Oh ! 
give  it  me,  Arthur,"  Alice  eagerly  exclaimed,  and  bending 
over  the  page,  she  read  : 

"PARIS,  April  10th,  1810. 
"  DEAR  VERB  : 

"  I  have  received  from  '  la  belle  Veuve'  a  kick  which  has 
sent  me  reeling  from  Italy  to  France.  Yes,  I,  the  irresisti 
ble  Frederick  Gaston,  I,  who  never  before  knew  the  woman 
I  could  not  conquer,  have  actually  been  foiled  at  last.  When 
I  poured  out  my  whole  soul  in  one  broad,  overwhelming 
torrent  of  passion,  when  love  holier  and  stronger  than  any  I 


80  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

have  before  imagined,  lent  to  my  words  the  most  burning 
eloquence,  she  remained  unmoved,  cold  as  the  snow  upon 
the  AJps.  When  her  calm,  firm  answer  fell  on  my  frenzied 
soul,  I  rushed  from  her  madly,  almost  in  anger  and  despair, 
for  Walter's  bracelet  encircled  that  fair  arm  ;  I  knew  it  had 
been  his  parting  gift,  and,  now,  the  sight  of  its  jewelled  clasp 
stung  me  into  jealousy.  I  may  wrong  your  friend,  Vere, 
but  I  do  not  believe  in  any  of  this  deuced  Platonic  attach 
ment  between  a  beautiful  woman  and  a  handsome  man ;  and 
with  all  his  coldness  and  reserve,  I  suspect  there  is  an  under 
current  of  strong  and  deep  feeling  which  bears  him  on,  more 
slowly,  but  as  surely,  to  the  vortex  of  passion  into  which  we 
more  impulsive  mortals  are  hurried. 

"  The  lovely  Millicent  is  not  forgotten  in  this  pilgrimage ; 
there  are  long  and  frequent  missives  from  the  banks  of  the 
Nile,  grateful  tributaries  to  the  fair  ideal,  Platonic  love. 

"  After  that  superb  widow,  even  Paris  seems  tame.  I 
arrived  here  five  days  after  the  celebration  of  Napoleon's 
marriage  with  the  Archduchess  Maria  Louisa.  The  impe 
rial  eagle  slumbers,  for  a  time,  in  the  boudoirs  of  the  new 
Empress,  but  only  to  soar  yet  higher ;  he  will  soon  weary  of 
inactivity  and  of  this  insipid  Austrian,  after  the  captivating 
Josephine. 

"  I  received  your  answer  to  my  last,  and  must  beg  you  to 
write  soon  again  ;  your  words  are  *  medicine  to  a  mind  dis 
eased.' 

"  Yours  faithfully, 

"  F.  GASTON. 


OR,      A     VOICE      FROM     THE     PAST.  81 

"  P.S. — By-the-by,  I  hear  that  your  fair  sister  is  engaged 
to  an  Englishman,  with  a  title  in  perspective." 

Pale  as  marble,  and  as  motionless,  were  the  lips  of  Alice 
Vere,  as  she  mutely  handed  back  the  letter.  Arthur  gently 
asked,  "  Dear  sister,  what  pains  you  thus  ?  Thoughtlessly,  I 
have  inflicted  this  wound ;  speak,  Alice,  and  say  you  forgive 
me." 

Those  kind,  loving  words  unlocked  her  frozen  tears  ;  she 
wept  convulsively  at  first,  and  then  more  calmly,  as  she  said, 
"  Never  ask  me  why  I  am  so  childish.  I  am  weak,  deai 
brother,  pray  for  me,  and  teach  me  to  be  wise  and  strong 
like  yourself ;  but  never,  even  between  us,  let  this  name 
again  be  spoken." 

"  Nay,  Alice,"  Arthur  pleaded,  "  judge  him  not  so  rashly ; 
Gaston  was  in  love  and  jealous,  he  knew  of  nothing  but  his 
own  foolish  suspicion." 

Gently  she  laid  her  finger  on  his  lips,  as  if  nothing  could 
revoke  that  sentence,  and  when  she  had  bathed  her  aching 
temples  at  the  spring,  passed  thoughtfully  on,  whilst  Arthur 
slowly  repeated  those  old  lines  from  Chaucer — 

"  Construe  the  best,  believe  no  tales  new, 
For  many  a  lie  is  told  that  seem'th  full  true  ; 
And  though  thou  seest  a  fault  right  at  thine  eye, 
Excuse  it  quick. 
******** 

Lucy  had  spent  several  days  at  The  Oaks,  and  Mrs.  Vere 
4* 


82  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

had  given  a  farewell  dinner  to  her  friends.  The  old  coach 
had  been  rolled  out  and  rubbed,  until  you  could  see  your 
face  in  its  shining  panels.  But  Uncle  Ned  was  too  venera 
ble  to  preside  over  the  four-in-hand,  on  so  long  a  journey, 
au  d  his  mantle  had  descended  upon  Tony,  his  successor  to 
the  box.  All  the  heavy  luggage  had  been  sent  to  town,  to 
be  shipped  direct  for  New  York.  The  carnage  was  most 
scientifically  packed ;  truly  its  capacious  body  was  possessed 
of  most  wonderful  elasticity ;  as  Mrs.  Vere's  incomparable 
waiting-woman,  Luna,  presided  over  the  disposition  of 
various  baskets  and  boxes,  books,  and  young  hyson,  with  the 
small  physic  chest,  and  her  mistress's  own  especial  pillow. 
While  the  large  tin-case,  containing  different  compartments 
for  cold  meats,  and  various  flasks,  was  consigned  to  the 
Major's  own  vehicle. 

Alice  was  by  her  father's  side,  and  the  old  coach  followed 
at  a  slower  pace,  with  Mrs.  Vere  and  her  endless  knitting, 
whilst  Luna  groaned  inwardly  at  this  uprooting  of  all 
household  ties,  and  Lisette  sobbed  convulsively,  upon  the 
steps  of  the  deserted  mansion,  until  roused  from  her  grief 
by  the  shining  face  of  her  faithful  Primus. 

Many  a  long  and  weary  mile  our  party  toiled  through 
the  dreary  pine  forests  of  North  Carolina,  to  the  road-side 
taverns,  or  the  farmers'  houses,  at  stated  distances,  for  their 
night's  lodging;  and  what  nights  were  passed,  in  those 
miserable  accommodations  for  man  and  beast !  Poor  Mrs. 
Vere  clung  to  her  pillow,  like  a  drowning  man  to  a  straw, 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM     THE      PAST.  83 

in  this  wreck  of  all  creature-comfort;  how  often  Luna 
turned  and  aired  the  sheets  by  the  blazing  "  lightwood"  fire, 
what  shawls  and  coverlids  were  pinned  up,  to  screen  them 
from  the  chill  night  air,  pouring  in  through  unsashed  win 
dows,  while  the  stars  twinkled  between  the  open  rafters 
above  them. 

Bright  and  early  they  were  again  upon  the  road,  on  a 
shorter  pilgrimage,  to  a  breakfasting-house,  where  they 
were  revived  by  their  own  fragrant  tea  ;  and,  although  Mrs. 
Vere  scorned  the  dough  biscuits,  as  perfect  brickbats,  a  fresh 
egg  and  thin  corn  pone  were  more  palatable. 

At  noon  they  drew  up  by  a  shady  spring,  where  the  tired 
horses  were  watered  and  the  travellers  set  free ;  the  canister 
was  opened,  and  they  dined  under  the  trees.  The  case- 
bottles  were  now  in  requisition,  and  Tony  was  braced,  by  a 
gentle  stimulant,  after  his  arduous  duties. 

Alice  sometimes  read  aloud,  whilst  Luna  gave  vent  to  a 
continued  series  of  short  grunts  and  starts,  upon  the  front 
seat ;  or  tired  of  the  old  coach,  the  fair  damsel  was  again 
seated  with  her  father,  driving  the  ponies ;  making  Tony 
stare  at  her  wonderful  performance,  as  she  flourished  her 
whip  in  a  most  masterly  style,  and  left  his  four-in-hand  far 
in  the  rear. 

Every  Sunday  they  stopped  at  some  of  the  principal 
towns  on  their  route ;  it  was  strictly  a  day  of  rest  to  our 
travellers,  and  to  their  weary  steeds  a  most  blessed  sabbatism. 

Slowly  they  climbed  the  long  red-clay  hills  of  old  Virginia, 


84  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

until  they  reached  Charlotte  Court-House,  where  they  were 
compelled,  by  the  lameness  of  one  of  their  horses,  to  remain 
several  days.  At  the  plain  but  comfortable  tavern  of  this 
county  town,  they  were  refreshed  by  clean  beds  and  sound 
sleep.  Fragrant  mint-juleps  knocked  them  up  at  sunrise  ; 
but  this  beverage  was  not  appreciated,  for  none  but  a  true 
son  of  the  old  Dominion  can  take  a  julep  in  all  its  bearings. 

Major  Vere  had  the  happiness  of  here  meeting  an  old 
and  valued  friend,  one  whose  name  has  since  become  a 
brilliant  epigram  in  the  history  of  his  country. 

I  see  him  now  with  his  English  top-boots,  riding-cap,  and 
whip,  tall  and  straight  as  a  forest  pine  ;  with  his  small  head, 
beardless  chin,  and  sallow  cheek ; — the  whole  face  irradiated 
by  an  eye  that  glowed  like  the  meteor  of  his  own  erratic 
genius.  He  seemed  glad  to  see  the  Veres,  and  insisted  upon 
their  accepting  his  hospitality,  at  his  own  estate,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Roanoke,  although  he  regretted  that  business 
would  prevent  his  being  at  home.  The  invitation  was 
accepted  as  cordially  as  it  was  given,  and  in  his  own  pecu 
liar  way  he  told  them,  "  you  must  take  the  first  left-hand 
road,  about  three  miles  from  this,  it's  rather  blind  at  first, 
but  soon  brightens."  Alice's  hand  still  lingered  in  his,  as 
he  looked  earnestly  into  her  face  with  those  wondrous  eyes, 
and  then  uttered  an  emphatic  "  God  bless  you,  Honey  !" 
and  she  -was  in  the  coach  once  more,  dreaming  of  that 
strange,  fascinating  gaze,  which  seemed  to  read  her  inmost 
soul.  Mrs.  Vere  was  still  talking  of  the  eccentricities  of 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  85 

their  friend,  when  they  drove  through  the  gate  leading  to  his 
residence,  a  log-cottage  of  rude  proportions,  but  most  scru 
pulous  neatness ;  where  his  butler,  old  Essex,  received  'them 
with  that  finished  courtesy  of  manner  which  so  highly 
entitled  him  to  the  panegyric  of  his  master,  when  he  said 
"that  Essex  was  one  of  the  last  real  gentlemen  left  in 
Virginia." 

The  Major  found  much  to  interest  him  in  the  farm,  the 
tcfbacco  fields,  and  the  magnificent  stock  of  blood  horses, 
whilst  the  ladies,  within-doors,  looked  over  rare  collections 
of  books  and  curiosities.  Directly  opposite  a  more  modern 
mansion  was  being  built,  for  the  accommodation  of  visitors ; 
but  nothing  could  ever  induce  the  proprietor  to  give  up  his 
own  log-cottage  and  its  associations. 

Essex  offered  the  best  and  choicest  wines,  with  lofty  pride, 
to  his  master's  guests,  and  they  were  treated  with  the  most 
unbounded  hospitality. 

The  next  day  the  horses  were  as  fresh  as  ever,  and  after 
the  Major  had  left  a  sterling  acknowledgment  of  their 
liberal  entertainment  with  those  faithful  servants,  they  bade 
farewell  to  the  secluded  home  of  John  Randolph  of 
Roanoke. 

The  next  resting-place  of  any  importance  was  Washing 
ton,  where  they  were  presented  to  Mrs.  Madison,  who  received 
them  with  charming  affability.  She  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  oval-room,  the  centre  of  a  distinguished  group ;  her  rose- 
colored  turban  vying  with  her  complexion  in  brilliancy.  In 


86  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

her  sprightly  vivacity  of  conversation,  she  was  eminently 
calculated  to  attract  the  popular  taste ;  although,  wanting  in 
that  dignity  of  presence  and  refinement  of  manner  which  so 
distinguished  her  successor  as  Lady  President. 

The  Capitol  and  White  House  were  still  in  an  unfinished 
state,  and,  after  they  had  seen  all  that  could  afford  interest, 
they  left  the  seat  of  government  for  Baltimore,  where  they 
remained  several  days  at  Gadsby's  hotel,  and  received  much 
kindness  and  attention  from  many  excellent  friends.  After 
a  short  but  pleasant  visit,  they  were  again  upon  the  road  to 
the  city  of  "Brotherly-love,"  where  they  passed  a  quiet 
Sunday,  and  about  the  end  of  the  ensuing  week,  the  yellow 
coach  drew  up,  after  a  journey  of  five  weeks,  at  the  door  of 
the  City  Hotel,  and  our  travellers  were  in  New  York. 

In  those  good  old  days,  the  elite  of  society  resided  at 
the  lower  end  of  the  city,  and  the  Battery  was  the  fashionable 
promenade ;  no  noisy,  distracting  omnibuses  then  rattled 
over  the  stones,  making  the  window-panes  shake  until  your 
home  seems  an  incessant  earthquake.  No  ;  Broadway,  then, 
was  a  pleasant  walk ;  a  place  where  conversation  was  carried 
on  without  pain  or  effort ;  one  strolled  decently  and  leisurely 
along,  not,  as  now,  at  a  rapid,  tearing  gait,  as  if  the  whole 
town  were  rushing  to  a  conflagration,  or  each  striving  to  out 
run  the  other  in  the  race  of  life,  jostling  the  timid  or  the 
"greenhorn"  off  the  side-walk,  with  hands  clasped  upon 
their  pockets,  suspicious  of  their  brother  in  poverty  or  dis 
grace  ;  with  one  aim,  one  soul,  one  existence ;  the  incessant 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM     THE      PAST.  87 

striving  for  gain,  the  restless  craving  for  wealth.  Not  that 
I  would  decry  the  honest  industry  or  commercial  success 
which  has  built  up  this  fair  city,  and  crowned  in  its  supremacy 
the  Empire  State.  But,  when  a  man's  worth  is  measured  by 
his  dollars ;  when  riches  constitute  all  that  entitles  him  to 
distinction  in  society  ;  I  say  that  this  worship  of  the  golden 
calf  is  so  hollow  and  so  false,  that  the  time  will  come  when 
a  stronger  and  more  powerful  voice  shall  denounce  such 
idolatry,  and  point  to  higher  and  nobler  adoration  than  that 
of  poor,  filthy  lucre. 


88  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

STILL,  peaceful  as  New  York  was  in  1810,  compared  with  the 
Babel  of  the  present  day,  to  Mrs.  Vere  and  Alice,  Broad 
way  was  a  most  exciting  and  distracting  scene. 

Most  of  the  families  of  their  acquaintance  had  left  town, 
for  their  country-seats  on  the  North  River ;  but  our  heroine 
found  ample  occupation  in  the  fashionable  stores  of 
Vandervoort  and  Flandin,  and  at  Richards's  the  jeweller, 
where  she  selected  a  set  of  pearls,  as  a  birth-day  gift  from 
her  father.  The  dress-maker,  Madame  Bouquette,  was  in 
requisition,  and  at  Mrs.  Ruthven's  the  milliner,  many  new 
and  elegant  devices  were  displayed.  In  this  fashionable 
emporium,  the  most  recherche  bonnets  were  shown,  but  Mrs. 
Vere  looked  down  upon  these  new-fangled  conceptions  with 
the  most  supreme  contempt ;  they  were  perfect  mushrooms 
to  her  own  stately  black  silk,  which  nothing  could  induce 
her  to  alter,  in  form  or  size,  and  she  ordered  a  new  one 
built,  precisely  upon  the  same  model.  Not  so,  the  younger 
lady ;  she  was  infinitely  bewildered  by  the  many  beautiful  and 
costly  articles  at  the  different  magasins.  The  bills  poured  in, 
for  her  own  little  purse  was  soon  emptied,  and  the  good 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  89 

Major  rubbed  his  eyes  in  astonishment  at  the  constant 
demands  upon  his  pocket-book. 

In  the  evening,  they  strolled  to  the  Battery,  or  to  Con- 
toit's  gardens  for  an  ice-cream,  and  at  night  the  Theatre 
offered  many  attractions  to  strangers. 

The  Veres  were  looking  anxiously  from  the  windows  of 
their  parlor,  when  a  hack  drove  up  to  the  hotel ;  the  door 
opened,  and  a  young  man  sprang  from  the  carriage.  The 
Major  rushed  into  the  street,  and  in  another  instant  Jocelin 
was  folded  in  his  mother's  arms.  Alice  looked  up,  half 
smiles,  half  tears,  into  that  manly  sunburnt  face;  he  had 
altered,  but  there  was  the  same  bright  glance  and  happy 
laugh,  as  he  caught  that  sister  to  his  heart  with  all  a 
brother's  pride,  marvelling  at  the  perfection  of  her  beauty. 

What  a  pleasant,  merry  party  they  were,  that  day  around 
the  dinner-table ;  how  much  Jocelin  had  to  tell,  how  much  to 
ask  of  home  and  his  "  dear  old  Moses,"  as  he  styled  Arthur 
in  the  merry  term  of  boyish  days,  "  when  he  would  preach 
law  and  order  so  gravely,  and  I,  in  my  heedless,  helter-skel 
ter  way,  would  kick  his  logic  to  the  deuce.  Nay,"  he  added, 
"  sweet  sister,  I  have  grown  a  better  boy  now,  and  the  good 
lessons  of  my  happy  home  are  stowed  away  as  safely  as  the 
Bible  in  my  locker." 

After  the  celebration  of  the  4th,  our  party  left  the  city. 
It  was  the  first  time  Mrs.  Vere  had  ever  seen  a  steam, 
boat,  and  with  no  slight  misgiving,  she  embarked  upon  her 
summer  tour.  While  the  mysterious  agent  was  wheezing 


90  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

and  puffing  most  asthmatically  along,  the  old  lady  sat  as  if 
expecting  some  fearful  explosion;  and  when  the  boat  was 
propelled  at  the  rate  of  ten  miles  an  hour,  she  looked 
upon  their  progress  through  "  the  treacherous  element,"  as 
something  marvellous.  Alice  and  Jocelin  were  admiring  the 
beautiful  Hudson,  in  all  the  variety  of  its  wooded  banks  and 
gently  sloping  farms,  dotted  here  and  there  by  a  handsome 
residence  or  a  pretty  villa;  when  gradually,  the  scenery 
became  wilder  and  more  impressive,  as  they  glided  under 
some  frowning  hill  or  towering  rock.  What  a  fair  page  is 
opened  in  nature's  volume,  as  you  trace  that  glorious  river, 
in  its  bright  course,  shadowed  by  dark  mountains,  tinged 
with  living  hues  from  creation's  pencil ;  and  how  ardently 
you  adore  the  Hand  that  has  written  in  such  graphic  frag 
ments  his  own  Almighty  power  and  boundless  skill.  It  was 
late  in  the  evening  before  Alice  left  the  deck;  she  had 
watched  the  sunset's  last  blush  upon  the  water,  and  now 
the  moon  silvered  stream  and  grove,  its  soft  light  sleeping 
in  the  shadows  of  the  Kaaterskill. 

On  entering  the  ladies'  cabin,  it  looked  like  anything  but 
a  place  of  repose ;  gossiping  women  telling  their  whole 
family  histories  to  some  gaping  listener,  children  crying 
vigorously,  and  mothers  stuffing  them  away  by  pairs  into 
narrow  berths ;  then  there  was  a  general  and  public  disrob 
ing,  young  ladies  screwing  up  their  hair  in  newspaper,  and 
an  endless  tying-on  of  night-caps,  before  the  glass.  All  these 
ghostly  preparations  seemed  to  indicate  a  more  peaceful  dis- 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  91 

solution,  as  they  turned  in,  tier  upon  tier,  for  the  night. 
But  there  was  a  poor  soul  with  a  shocking  cough,  and  now 
her  neighbor  just  above  trumpeted  out  a  snore  that  would 
wake  the  dead,  or  a  puling  baby  filled  up  the  pauses  with 
its  wailing  cry.  With  Christian  resignation,  the  black  silk 
bonnet  was  laid  aside,  bat  nothing  could  induce  Mrs.  Vere 
to  climb  into  that  bed  between  two  planks,  or  to  loose  one 
hook  or  stay  from  her  dress.  She  remained  bolt-upright  in 
her  chair,  until  day,  whilst  her  faithful  Luna  most  philoso 
phically  slept  upon  a  mattress  at  her  feet;  and  Alice 
reclined  upon  a  sofa,  more  amused  than  annoyed  by  this 
novel  glimpse  of  the  pleasures  of  travelling  with  the  million. 

The  next  morning  they  were  in  Albany,  where  they  took 
a  post-coach  to  Ballston  Springs,  and  reached  the  "Sans 
Souci "  about  dusk.  Mrs.  Vere  and  her  daughter  were  too 
much  fatigued  to  appear  at  tea,  and  the  good  lady  was  soon 
comfortably  established  in  her  own  rooms. 

It  seemed  very  strange  to  Alice,  that  breakfasting 
saloon,  with  long  tables,  where  parties  or  coteries  were  seated 
talking  very  fast,  and  eating  still  faster.  The  places  appro 
priated  to  the  Veres  were  directly  opposite  a  pleasant  look 
ing  set;  but  how  awkward  this  being  face  to  face  with 
perfect  strangers,  and  men  too !  Why  Alice  could  not  raise 
her  eyes  from  her  plate ;  she  was  sure  she  should  starve 
rather  than  eat  before  those  people,  watching  every  mouth 
ful  she  put  to  her  lips.  Certainly  her  appearance  had 
made  a  sensation ;  she  was  something  new.  The  belle  "par 


92  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

excellence,"  Miss  Tillton,  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  said 
to  an  elegant  Frenchman  on  her  left,  "  pas  grande  chose." 
Whilst  the  fastidious  Count  raised  his  eye-glass  for  an  instant, 
as  Jocelin  turned  his  head  away,  and  then  dropped  it  with  a 
most  complacent  smile,  as  he  murmured,  "  Ma  foi !  je  la 
trouve  charmante." 

And  this  was  enough  to  seal  Miss  Tillton  her  foe  for  life, 
for  praise  from  the  Count  de  Garenville  was  of  unquestiona 
ble  value  in  the  opinion  of  the  fashionable  clique  at  Ballston 
Spa. 

Was  it  possible,  that  but  three  short  days  had  passed,  and 
Alice  Vere  was  at  the  same  table,  both  talking  and  eating 
very  naturally,  and  Monsieur  le  Comte  was  by  her  side, 
apparently  a  most  piquant  addition  to  her  breakfast ! 

There  were  suspicions  among  the  men,  that  this  Count  de 
Garenville  was  an  adventurer,  whose  broken  fortunes  were 
to  be  restored  by  the  golden  favors  of  some  rich  heiress. 
But  the  softer  and  more  charitable  sex  thought  only  of  his 
handsome  face  and  his  courtier-like  address ;  then  he  had 
such  exquisite  taste,  such  refined  tact,  that  his  "  esprit  du 
salon"  established  the  code  of  fashion  among  the  ladies, 
without  doubt  or  controversy. 

There  were  some  new  arrivals  at  the  Sans  Souci;  a  pretty 
damsel  attended  by  a  maiden  aunt,  of  whose  well-filled  coffers 
this  child  of  her  adoption  held  the  key.  The  lady  and  her 
niece  were  not  strangers  to  the  Veres.  Alice  had  known 
Marion  Wallace  in  early  childhood,  before  the  deatfr  of  a 


OB,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  93 

widowed  mother  had  consigned  the  little  girl  to  the  care  of 
her  nearest  relative,  Miss  Menlove;  whose  residence  in 
Fourth  street,  Philadelphia,  was  like  her  own  person,  very 
tall,  very  dull,  and  somewhat  faded  in  its  appointments, 
But  through  those  sombre  quiet  rooms,  a  sunbeam  glanced, 
making  the  place  beautiful,  and  the  cold  heart  warm,  for 
Marion  was  the  very  impersonation  of  joy,  with  her  dancing 
curls  and  laughing  blue  eyes,  as  she  hovered  around  the 
tall  cap,  during  the  afternoon's  nap,  pulling  out  the  knitting,  or 
stealing  the  gold  snuff-box  from  the  capacious  pocket.  And 
now  the  "Bonnie  Beam"  shone  in  joyous  beauty,  peeping 
like  light  from  behind  a  cloucj,  by  the  side  of  her  grave  aunt, 
and  beyond  the  red  brick  walls  of  her  trim  home.  To  Alico 
there  was  a  more  recent  interest  and  tender  association,  in 
Marion  being  the  only  sister  of  poor  Ned  Wallace. 

Jocelin  was  very  near  the  little  '*  Beam,"  but  "  the  cloud  " 
was  there  too,  and  somewhat  lowering  in  her  dark  garb, 
she  seemed  doubtful  of  that  giddy  Beam.  For  never  was 
name,  in  its  literal  signification,  a  greater  antithesis  than 
Miss  Menlove's,  when  she  shrank  from  the  "  perfidious  sex  " 
as  she  would  have  done  from  the  bite  of  a  rattlesnake. 

The  Cloud  had  floated  once  upon  a  summer  sky  and 
brightly  too,  until  wooed  by  a  zephyr's  soft  caress,  gaily  it 
was  wafted  on,  fanned  by  that  gentle  breath.  But  the  trea 
cherous  rover  sighed  to  a  rosier  tint  upon  a  fairer  sky,  and  she 
was  left  to  gather  up  her  mantle  alone,  and  in  fierce  wrath, 
to  frown  down  upon  the  world  and  all  its  vain  emotions. 


94  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  IX. 

IN  a  certain  cosy  billiard-room,  sat  several  ladies,  with  their 
tambour-frames ;  there  were  silks  to  be  sorted,  and  skeins  to 
be  untangled ;  certainly,  the  pretty  "  Beam"  had  caught  in 
her  perplexing  web,  something  not  very  like  a  fly,  for  it  had 
human  hands,  which  were  most<  patiently  enchained  in  those 
soft  meshes.  Positively  it  was  a  man !  But,  "  the  cloud'* 
had  floated  off  to  the  spring,  in  company  with  the  Major 
and  Mrs.  Vere,  to  drink  up  the  sparkling  drops  of  those  far- 
famed  waters,  in  their  cooling  and  anti-bilious  properties ; 
truly  she  had  imbibed  them  freely,  and  in  her  exhilaration, 
she  forgot  the  "  little  Beam"  at  home. 

Monsieur  le  Comte  was  teaching  Alice  billiards  ;  she  had 
cannoned  upon  the  two  reds  and  pocketed  the  white  ball ; 
and  the  Frenchman  was  thrown  into  ecstasies  of  delight  at 
the  success  of  his  pupil. 

Miss  Tillton  was  trying  her  tactics  upon  a  new  subject, 
and  another  foreign  interest  engrossed  her,  in  the  shape 
of  the  Baron  Von  Whiskinheimer,  a  very  agreeable  Ger 
man,  who  spoke  English  with  a  strong  guttural,  which  was 
charming.  "  After  all,  that  petit-inaitre  French  accent  is  so 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  05 

insipid!"  Miss  Tillton  was  surrounded  by  many  dashing 
beaux  from  her  own  city.  She  was  a  magnificent  brunette, 
with  flashing  eyes  and  proudly  swelling  form,  the  heiress  of 
untold  wealth,  and  the  most  exquisitely  dressed  person  at 
the  Springs ;  she  could  venture  to  wear  any  fashion,  however 
"  outre,"  for  her  faultless  taste  made  it  at  once  the  most 
becoming  mode  of  the  day.  How  she  scorned  the  humbler 
toilettes  around  her,  as  she  said  with  a  curling  lip,  "  Just 
look  at  that  little  Southerner!  Why,  I  could  dress  up  a 
broomstick  with  more  effect." 

The  coach  and  four  had  arrived,  for  Tony's  bewildered 
brain  had  been  safely  piloted  over  the  Highlands,  by  a  more 
knowing  head,  and  again  he  made  his  bow  to  his  honored 
mistress,  as  he  received  her  orders  for  the  day. 

It  was  a  pleasant  afternoon,  the  carriage  was  in  waiting, 
and  Mrs.  Vere  with  Miss  Menlove  were  handed  to  it  by  the 
gallant  Major,  who  had  the  temerity  to  accompany  the  latter 
lady,  in  such  close  juxtaposition  as  a  front  seat  affords. 

The  little  "  Beam "  could  not  be  entrapped  into  the  old 
coach,  in  spite  of  many  secret  manoeuvres  on  the  part  of  her 
watchful  aunt ;  she  was  wonderfully  constant  at  present, 
preferring  to  shine  in  one  spot ;  and  Alice  had  undertaken 
the  charge  of  chaperon  during  their  evening  walk  to  the 
Lover's  Leap. 

Miss  Tillton  swept  past  them  on  horseback,  attended  by 
the  ruthful  Baron  Von  Whiskinheimer,  who  was  made  to  ride 
nolens  volens,  although  neither  his  brute  nor  his  own  cor- 


96  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

poreal  self  seemed  to  entertain  the  least  understanding  of  each 
other. 

The  pretty  pedestrians  strolled  through  the  woods,  but 
"  the  Beam  "  had  flitted  on  far  ahead  with  Jocelin,  and 
Alice  was  diverted  by  the  animated  gesticulation  of  "  Mon 
sieur  le  Comte." 

Shall  we  follow  that  "Will-o'-the-wisp,"  and  watch  her 
more  closely  than  did  her  young  protectress  ?  She  was  talk 
ing  of  herself,  as  she  exclaimed,  "  Yes,  I  am  a  little  riddle  ! 
From  my  very  birth  I  was  a  mistake,  for  I  ought  to  have  been 
a  boy.  My  father  had  set  his  heart  upon  it,  and  had  named 
me,  before  I  saw  the  light,  after  his  valued  friend  and  leader 
General  Marion ;  and  the  disappointment  of  my  turning  out 
a  girl,  after  all,  was  so  great,  that  my  poor  mother,  to 
appease  his  indignation,  gently  suggested  that  the  child 
should  still  be  called  4  Marion ;'  whilst  her  loving  heart  soft 
ly  whispered,  her  own  sweet  name  of  Mary."  . 

Jocelin  agreed  with  her  perfectly,  that  "  Marion  Wallace" 
was  not  a  pretty  combination ;  a  shorter  one,  of  about  four 
letters,  would  make  the  Christian  name  perfect  in  its  har 
mony  to  his  ear. 

This  enigma  outriddled  hers,  she  could  not  guess  what  he 
was  driving  at ;  and,  after  a  few  moments'  silence,  she  said, 
"  Did  you  know  that  my  brother  Edward  loved  your  sister 
Alice,  and  that  she  refused  him  ?  Child  as  I  am,  he  told  me 
all  about  it,  before  he  sailed  for  the  Mediterranean.  I  love 
this  brother  better  than  anything  on  earth,  so  you  may 


OR,      A     VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  97 

believe  that  his  sorrows  are  mine.  I  can  be  grave  sometimes, 
and  I  longed  to  see  one  he  so  idolized ;  at  the  same  time,  I 
fancied  she  had  no  woman's  heart,  and  that  I  should  never 
forgive  his  cruel  beauty.  I  confess  this,  now,  because  she 
has  already  won  my  affection  and  entire  confidence." 

Here  the  subject  of  conversation  overtook  them,  and  they 
turned  their  steps  towards  the  Springs. 

The  coach  was  on  its  return  to  the  "  Sans  Souci,"  when  a 
riderless  horse  dashed  past,  and  Miss  Tillton  rode  rapidly 
towards  the  carriage ;  in  a  short,  decisive  manner,  she  then 
told  them  that  the  Baron  Von  Whiskinheimer  was  thrown, 
and,  she  feared,  much  hurt.  Immediately  the  horses'  heads 
were  turned,  preceded  by  the  flying  artillery  of  Miss  Tillton's 
charms.  The  Baron  was  found  insensible,  and  Mrs.  Vere 
had  him  carefully  lifted  into  the  coach  by  the  Major  and 
Tony,  whilst  Miss  Menlove  hastily  bundled  out,  declaring 
she  could  never  abide  "  a  dead  man,"  and  the  Major,  con 
scious  of  not  coming  under  this  head,  offered  his  arm  in  their 
walk  to  the  hotel. 

The  motion  of  the  carriage  had  revived  the  poor  Baron ; 
he  opened  his  eyes,  but  the  pain  of  his  crushed  and  broken 
arm  made  him  quickly  close  them,  with  a  stifled  groan. 
Mrs.  Vere  did  all  that  sense  or  motherly  tenderness  could 
suggest,  for  the  comfort  of  the  young  German. 

When  they  stopped  before  the  hotel,  he  was  conveyed  to 
his  apartment,  followed  by  Mrs.  Vere,  who  never  left  him 
until  the  arm  was  set  by  a  skilful  physician.  After  she 

5 


98  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

had  seen  to  every  arrangement  that  could  conduce  to  the 
patient's  relief,  Luna  was  installed  as  nurse,  and  the  good 
lady  sailed  into  the  drawing-room,  to  report  the  adventure  to 
the  little  group  around  the  card-table ;  while  Miss  Tillton 
ejaculated  to  a  bevy  of  beaux  in  the  next  room,  "  What  a 
stupid  bore  the  man  was,  not  to  know  how  to  ride  1" 

The  "  Beam"  not  only  shone  but  sang  divinely,  as  in  a 
clear,  birdlike  voice,  she  carolled  forth  her  simple  ballads 
to  an  entranced  circle  around  the  piano.  There  was 
pathos  in  those  thrilling  tones,  and  tears  were  in  Jocelin's 
eyes,  as  he  listened  to  her  sweetly  warbled  songs. 

The  next  excitement  at  the  "  Sans  §ouci"  was  the  arrival 
of  Arthur  Vere  and  the  handsome  Englishman ;  but,  unfortu 
nately  for  many  cherished  visions  and  airy  castles  built  by 
young  ladies  of  poetic  temperament,  Reginald  Langdon  was 
to  remain  only  a  few  days  at  the  Springs.  He  had  received 
letters  from  home,  informing  him  of  the  approaching  nup 
tials  of  his  younger  sister,  and  desiring  his  presence  at  the 
wedding. 

Arthur  Vere,  the  shy,  reserved  student,  seemed  little 
impressed  by  the  battery  opened  against  him ;  and  Jocelin 
had  deserted  his  "  Sunbeam"  to  be  near  that  loved  brother 
again,  but  Marion  was  afraid  of  that  pale,  grave  face,  and 
those  earnest  eyes,  which  were  often  watching  her ;  as  Jocelin 
returned  to  her  side,  she  whispered,  "  Dear  me,  I  can  see 
him  turning  over  the  leaves  of  my  silly  little  heart,  one  by 
one ;  I  only  wonder  he  should  think  it  worth  reading !" 


OK,     A     VOICE      FROM     THE     PAST.  99 

It  was  the  grand  ball  of  the  season.  Miss  Tillton  was 
in  the  zenith  of  her  beauty,  her  dress  the  wonder  of  the 
room ;  a  silken  tissue  over  white  satin,  embroidered  in  am 
ber-colored  beads,  and  a  coronet  of  topaz  in  her  dark  hair, 
gathering  up  its  folds  in  one  blaze  of  splendor. 

The  Count  de  Garenville  approached  her  with  an  exclama 
tion  of  delight,  "  Mais,  Mademoiselle  !  .vous  etes  en  Reine." 

The  haughty  head  was  slightly  inclined,  as  she  acknow 
ledged  his  admiration,  emphatically  saying,  "  Oui,  c'est  vrai, 
rnais  je  n'aurais  point  de  cceurs  franqais  pour  sujets !" 

With  an  incredulous  smile,  he  whispered,  "  Nous  verrons," 
and  then  passed  on. 

The  little  "  Beam"  floated  along  in  silver  and  azure,  her 
bright  curls  playing  around  the  smiling  dimples  on  her 
cheek,  Jike  the  happy  ripples  of  her  own  joyous  spirit. 

Alice,  in  her  pearls,  was  so  beautiful,  that  even  Miss  Till 
ton  condescended  to  notice  her  "  parure."  Reginald  Lang- 
don  was  the  favored  attendant,  and  had  suddenly  discovered 
that  he  had  not  forgotten  how  to  dance,  while  the  Count 
consoled  himself  with  the  prejudice  of  his  countrymen,  as  he 
contemptuously  muttered,  "Ce  n'est  qu'un  Anglais!" 

The  very  satirical  Misses  Drifton,  with  auburn  hair  and 
freckles,  were  commenting  upon  the  flirtations,  and  saying 
many  smart  things,  which  proved  only  acrid  drops,  not  worth 
collecting. 

Arthur  Vere  was  talking  to  an  early  friend,  a  tall,  pale 
girl,  with  lustrous  eyes  and  drooping  form.  She  was  a  broken 


100  ECHOES    or    A    BELLE; 

lily,  but  the  flower  would  be  culled  in  a  brighter  and  a  bet 
ter  world.  That  gifted  girl  was  a  chosen  spirit,  early  called 
and  early  tried,  her  intellectual  beauty  already  shadowed  by 
the  angel  wing. 

To  one  so  gentle  and  so  pure,  converse  with  a  kindred 
soul  was  an  exquisite  enjoyment,  but  many  a  weary  hour  of 
pain  and  suffering  made  these  moments  shorter,  and  more 
rare.  She  thought  not  of  earth-born  love,  but  prized  this 
one  faint  glimpse  of  that  secret  ideal  she  had  enshrined  in 
her  own  heart ;  she  blessed  this  ray  upon  her  darkened  path, 
as  a  gleam  from  the  unknown  bliss  which  should  crown  her 
in  Paradise  with  Heaven's  true  element  of  love. 

'  He  prayeth  best,  who  loveth  best 
All  things  both  great  and  small, 
For  the  dear  God  who  loveth  us, 
He  made  and  loveth  all.'* 

It  was  not  often  that  Constance  looked  upon  her  brightly 
fluttering  sisters  in  the  giddy  dance.  The  noisy  ball-room 
seems  not  a  fitting  spot  for  her  pale  face,  or  these  sad 
thoughts ;  but,  reader,  she  was  there  for  a  short  space,  and  I 
could  not  pass  her  by. 

The  Baron  Von  Whiskinheimer,  with  his  left  arm  still  in  a 
sling,  was  the  object  of  much  interest;  his  honest  heart 
remained  true  to  his  steadfast  friend,  and  no  younger  daine 
could  charm  him  from  his  reverence  for  the  lofty  turban  and 
lustling  silks  of  Mrs.  Vere. 

Miss  Tillton  danced  a  "Menuet  de  la  Cour"  with  the  Count 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  101 

de  Garenville ;  and  what  a  dancer  lie  was,  such  soul  in  the 
expression  of  his  foot,  and  such  a  pump  and  silk  stocking, 
and  then  his  leg !  Yes,  dear  reader,  don't  blush  ;  in  those 
days  people  talked  very  boldly  of  their  legs,  and  boasted  of 
them,  too — at  least,  I  can  answer  for  the  men — and  now  we  do 
not  even  suspect  such  things !  In  the  fashionable  pantaloon, 
reaching  to  the  ankle,  the  most  ill-shapen  calf  is  happily  con 
cealed,  and  the  spindle  shank  redeemed  from  public  censure. 
Like  "  charity,"  truly,  it  "  covereth  a  multitude  of  faults." 

The  ball  wound  up  with  a  "  Contredanse,"  which  Jocelin 
and  the  "  Beam"  thought  very  refreshing,  after  "  that  egotis 
tical  minuet,  so  exclusively  for  two."  But  the  dance  was 
over,  the  room  seemed  oppressively  warm,  it  was  pleasanter 
upon  the  piazza,  and  at  its  end  stood  the  little  "  Beam" — 
alone  ?  Oh  !  no,  she  had  not  forgotten  that,  in  the  rule  of 
simple  addition,  one  and  one  make  two,  and  it  is  too  good  a 
rule  to  cavil  at.  There  were  two  pair  of  eyes  looking  up  at 
the  stars,  when  a  cloud  came  over  the  face  of  the  moon ;  it 
must  have  been  Miss  Menlove's  shadow,  as  she  piped  out,  in 
her  shrill  falsetto,  "  Come  in,  child,  out  of  that  night  air." 

The  room  was  thinning  fast,  and  Reginald  Langdon  stood 
leaning  over  Alice's  chair ;  there  had  been  some  light  wager 
between  them  about  his  return  to  America.  He  declared 
that  there  was  too  much  of  interest,  too  many  happy  memo 
ries,  and  too  much  still  to  be  explored  in  the  New  World,  to 
permit  him  to  rest  long  contented  away ;  but  Alice  still  shook 
her  head  doubtingly  as  her  mother  joined  them. 


102  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

Langdon  was  to  leave  at  an  early  hour  the  next  day ;  the 
ladies  had  now  reached  the  staircase  leading  to  their  apart 
ments  ;  that  sad  little  word  "  good  bye"  must  be  spoken,  it 
was  said  at  last,  very  slowly,  as  Alice's  hand  was  pressed  for 
a  moment  in  his,  and  then  they  diverged  in  opposite  direc 
tions  to  their  rooms. 

The  Major  had  retired  at  an  early  hour  to  seek  refuge  in 
his  magazines  ;  he  was  fast  asleep,  seated  in  a  rocking-chair, 
in  his  green  dressing-gown  and  slippers,  with  his  extremities, 
not  legs  !  upon  another  chair,  the  book  in  his  hand,  the  spec 
tacles  on  his  nose,  reading  in  the  dark,  for  the  candle  was 
expiring  in  the  socket,  as  Mrs.  Vere  opened  the  door.  The 
lady,  with  her  usual  providence,  had  supplied  her  own 
"  sperms,"  and  this  consumption  of  a  whole  one  in  a  night, 
was  considered  a  capital  crime  in  her  economy  of  law  and 
order.  No  more  pleasant  dreams,  dear  Major ;  and  we  are 
too  generous  to  wish  to  share  your  nice  little  curtain  lecture, 
for  Mrs.  Vere  could  serve  up  one  "  a  la  Caudle"  to  perfection ! 

All  night  long  that  little  word  "  good  bye"  haunted  the 
slumbers  of  number  12,  but  he  was  roused  bright  and  early, 
with  no  chance  of  meeting  a  response,  as  he  whispered,  in 
passing  Alice's  door,  "  Good  bye !" 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  103 


CHAPTER  X. 

IN  the  moonlight,  upon  the  piazza,  stood  the  Count  de 
Garenville ;  not  studying  the  stars,  but  Alice's  fair  face,  as  he 
spoke  of  his  own  land,  telling  her  he  had  pined  in  exile  from 
"  la  belle  France,"  that  the  only  ray  of  joy  in  this  "  triste 
sejour"  had  been  the  revelation  of  loveliness  like  hers ;  and 
now  he  would  humbly  ask  some  memento  of  their  last 
dance,  the  little  glove  she  had  worn,  or  the  fairy  slipper  that 
had  graced  her  foot.  Alice  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then 
glancing  archly  at  the  Count,  she  replied,  "  Ah !  Monsieur, 
your  wish  is  granted,  upon  condition  that  I,  also,  may 
receive  something  of  yours  in  return." 

The  Count  was  intoxicated  with  delight ;  there  was  nothing 
she  could  name,  even  a  miracle,  which  he  would  not  perform 
at  her  request.  Again  the  lady  glanced  at  that  unrivalled 
"  toupet,"  as  she  slowly  answered,  "  I  would  prize,  beyond  all 
else,  a  lock  of  your  luxuriant  hair." 

Monsieur  de  Garenville  bit  his  lip  with  vexation,  for  he 
prided  himself  upon  his  immaculate  "  perruque"  as  a  most 
perfect  artifice ;  but  his  sense  of  the  ridiculous  overcame  his 
mortification,  and  he  exclaimed,  "  Ah  !  qu'elle  est  espiegle !'; 


104  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

Rapturously  declaring  "  that  his  heart,  his  head,  his  existence 
were  hers,  and  that  he  implored  her  acceptance  of  a  name 
not  unworthy  her  adoption." 

She  replied,  "  I  am  very  ungrateful,  Monsieur ;  your  gene 
rosity  is  lost  upon  me.  I  can  merely  give  you,  in  return  for 
so  much  honor,  an  empty  glove,  for  I  have  nothing  to  place 
within  it,  and  my  heart  is  as  empty  as  the  glove,  in  all 
save  kind  wishes  for  your  welfare." 

Once  again  the  Count  urged  his  suit  with  greater  ardor, 
but  it  was  only  the  more  decidedly  discouraged,  and  he  had 
too  much  tact,  or  presence  of  mind,  to  allow  this  little  affair 
to  become  public.  That  Miss  Tillton  might  not  suspect  it, 
his  manoauvres  were  most  skilfully  planned,  and  his  desertion 
of  Alice  was  so  gradual  that  it  attracted  no  notice ;  whilst 
Miss  Tillton  triumphed  in  the  belief  that  she  had  thrown 
"  the  little  Southerner"  into  the  shade,  and  that  the  Count 
was  weary  "  of  such  game  !" 

Miss  Menlove  must  have  become  stone-blind,  for  the  pretty 
"  Beam"  evidently  thought  the  "  rule  of  three"  a  great  bore, 
and  was  glad  to. escape  to  simple  addition ;  with  Jocelin  ever 
at  her  side,  to  prove  her  theory  correct. 

But  this  constant  proximity  to  mankind  acted  upon  a 
lady  of  Miss  Menlove's  temperament  as  a  perpetual  irritant, 
and  her  nervous  system  was  so  seriously  affected,  that  she  had 
determined  to  return  to  the  sanctity  of  her  own  quiet  home 
in  Fourth  street.  "  The  Beam"  and  Jocelin  had  glided  off 
at  twilight  to  the  "  Lover's  Leap,"  where  he  was  inspired  by 


OR,      A     VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  105 

the  renown  of  some  desperate  wight,  who,  in  the  same  luck 
less  plight  as  himself,  had  dared  a  plunge  which  has  furnish 
ed  matter  of  speculation  to  many  a  smitten  pair,  and  given 
rise  to  heroic  vows  and  fierce  declarations,  suggested  by  the 
scene  and  place.  But  the  gentle  Beam  asked  no  such  fear 
ful  proof  of  love ;  she  believed  all  he  told  her,  and  there  was 
no  yawning  precipice  to  divide  them.  Thoughtless  Beam  ! 
She  forgot  Miss  Menlove  and  her  antipathies. 

On  his  return  to  the  hotel,  Jocelin  at  once  sought  an  inter 
view  with  that  lady.  They  had  been  closeted  but  a  short 
time,  when  our  hero  rushed  out,  pale  and  speechless,  as  if  he 
were  about  to  make  that  last  desperate  plunge,  after  all.  The 
little  Beam  had  taken  refuge  in  her  own  room,  when  the 
door  opened,  and  her  Aunt,  seating  herself  directly  in  front 
of  her,  scanned  the  blushing  face  with  those  searching  eyes 
and  that  dark  scowl  which  portended  so  much.  Poor  little 
Beam !  how  she  trembled  beneath  it,  and  when  Miss  Men- 
love  asked,  in  her  shrill  piping  tone,  "  Well !  little  minx, 
what  does  all  this  mean  ?  Hey  !  I  hear  that  you  have  been 
listening  to  the  fine  speeches  of  that  conceited  youngster, 
and  that  you  return  his  love.  Fiddlesticks  !  such  children  to 
play  with  edged  tools ;  indeed,  you  may  just  forget  Master 
Jocelin's  existence.  Why,  I  am  astonished  at  you,  Marion, 
to  believe  what  a  man  tells  you !  They  make  it  a  point  of 
honor  to  lie  to  women.  No,  I  have  given  the  lad  a  piece  of 
my  mind,  and  sent  him  off  with  a  good  dose  of  common 


5* 


106  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

"  Poor,  dear  Jocelin !"  sighed  Marion.  Here  she  was  most 
solemnly  admonished  not  to  mention  that  name  again. 

The  little  Beam  now  fell  into  hysterics  which  defied  all 
palliatives,  and,  by  night,  the  poor  child  was  ill  and  feverish, 
when  Miss  Menlove  became  alarmed  and  called  in  a  physi 
cian.  All  night  the  Beam  tossed  restlessly  on  her  pillow  ; 
there  was  no  peace,  no  hope  for  her  now ;  and  the  next  day 
she  lay  very  pale  and  still,  as  Miss  Menlove  bent  anxiously 
over  her  couch. 

Not  one  mouthful  would  "  the  Beam"  eat,  she  was  deter 
mined  to  starve  herself  to  death.  Again  she  moved  about 
the  room,  but  so  wan  and  sad  you  would  rfever  have  known 
her,  and  the  doctor  said,  mysteriously,  that  the  young  lady 
had  something  on  her  mind,  some  secret  trouble.  Miss  Men- 
love  sighed  ;  an  auspicious  sigh  !  "  The  Beam"  still  starved 
herself  upon  a  few  crumbs  a  day,  and  was  too  weak  to  leave 
for  Philadelphia. 

The  Major  held  a  conference  with  Miss  Menlove ;  he  pro 
mised  that  Jocelin  should  leave  the  Springs  instantly,  if  she 
would  relieve  the  poor  child  from  her  imprisonment.  Whilst 
they  were  talking,  a  little  bit  of  folded  paper  was  slipped  under 
the  door  of  the  Beam's  cage  ;  she  flew  to  pick  it  up,  and  read 
those  loving  words,  again  and  again.  Jocelin  was  almost 
frantic,  he  could  not  resign  her,  and  had  asked  her  to  give 
him  some  hope,  anything  would  be  better  than  this  uncer 
tainty,  death  itself.  Quickly  the  little  hand  wrote,  on  a 
mere  scrap  of  paper,  "  I  love  you,  and  is  not  this  enough  to 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM     THE     PAST.  107 

bid  you  hope  !"  The  billet  was  then  pushed  under  the  door 
with  a  knitting  needle,  just  as  Miss  Menlove  stalked  into 
the  room.  She  looked  at  the  swollen  eyes,  the  pale  cheeks, 
and  for  the  first  time  stooped  to  kiss  them,  as  she  said, 
"  You  will  be  very  ill,  Marion,  if  you  do  not  give  up  this 
silly  fancy." 

But  the  Beam  threw  herself  upon  her  knees,  and,  in  a 
flood  of  tears,  told  her  she  could  never  relinquish  her  love  for 
Jocelin,  and  then  implored  her,  by  every  tender  epithet,  by 
every  coaxing,  winning  way,  to  make  them  happy ;  they 
would  never  ask  to  see  each  other  again,  unless  she  sanction 
ed  it,  but,  that  if  she  loved  her,  she  would  grant  their  prayer. 

And  now  the  soft  arms  were  around  her  neck,  and  the 
blue  eyes  looking,  through  their  tears,  right  into  the  cloud ; 
it  was  melting  into  mist  beneath  the  influence  of  that 
gentle  "  Sunbeam,"  and  Miss  Menlove  looked  down  relent 
ing.  Jocelin  wras  the  happiest,  the  most  dutiful  of  lovers,  he 
promised  to  wait  an  eternity,  to  go  to  sea  just  when  Miss 
Menlove  ordered  him ;  and  "  the  Beam,"  how  bright  she  was 
again,  her  roses  had  come  back,  with  somebody  else,  only 
she  did  not  like  the  sound  of  that  horrid  sea. 

The  engagement  was  to  be  kept  a  profound  secret,  Mrs. 
Vere  and  Miss  Menlove  quite  agreeing  that  the  young  peo 
ple  were  mere  children,  the  Beam  only  sixteen,  and  Jocelin 
just  three  years  older. 

The  idea  of  their  marriage  was  as  far  removed  from  Miss 
Menlove's  mind  as  the  antipodes.  It  would  take  time  to 


108  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

accustom  her  to  the  idea  of  a  man  being  allowed  free 
entrance  into  that  abode  of  maiden  propriety  in  Fourth 
street. 

Poor  soul !  how  glad  you  were  to  take  flight  at  last,  with 
your  precious  "  Beam,"  and  to  be  once  more  beneath  the 
grateful  shelter  of  your  own  roo£ 

What  a  quantity  of  paper  and  pens  "  the  little  Beam"  had 
invested  her  pocket-money  in,  and  such  a  very  tender  seal, 
with  ink  enough  to  last  a  year.  She  hated  letter- writing 
once,  as  much  as  "  the  rule  of  three ;"  but  now  she  was 
perched  at  her  desk  the  livelong  day,  scribbling  to  her 
"  poor,  dear  Jocelin." 

The  next  grand  affair  at  the  "  Sans  Souci"  was  the  Count 
de  Garenville's  declaration  of  love  to  Miss  Tillton ;  but  the 
rubicund  face  of  Papa  Tillton  was  somewhat  choleric  in  hue. 
His  fortune  had  been  honestly  and  hardly  earned  between  the 
close  red  brick  walls  of  his  wareroom  in  Pearl  street,  and  he 
had  no  idea  of  that  "  confounded  Frenchman"  running  off 
with  his  "  real  estate ;"  but  the  young  lady  was  independent 
of  her  parents;  a  most  indulgent  progenitor  had  left  her 
some  valuable  stock  in  bank,  and  to  the  imperious  Delphine 
what  were  bolts  and  bars,  or  papa's  wishes,  upon  a  subject 
which  alone  concerned  herself ! 

The  Count  appeared  resigned,  and  was  full  of  deference 
for  the  indignant  sire. 

Delphine  had  been  ordered  to  pack  up  instantly ;  Mamma 


OR,     A     VOICE      FROM     THE     PAST.  109 

Tillton  wrung  her  hands  and  wept  in  silent  agony,  whilst  the 
lady's  maid  packed  tray  after  tray  and  box  after  box,  and 
Delphine,  calm  and  collected,  gave  her  orders  as  to  the  dis 
position  of  her  wardrobe. 

Heads  were  nodding,  and  voices  whispering  mysteriously 
to  each  other  over  the  breakfast  table,  which  had  come  down 
to  one  forlorn  hope,  in  that  long  room  at  the  "  Sans  Souci." 
"  Dear  me  !  do  you  know  what's  happened  ?  Why,  the 
Tilltons  were  all  ready  this  morning  to  leave  for  town ;  they 
went  to  their  daughter's  room,  and  found  it  empty  !  Only 
think,  the  young  lady  had  gone  off  in  a  hired  chaise  with  the 
Count  de  Garenville  at  midnight !" 

"  I  knew  it  would  end  just  so !"  exclaimed  the  auburn- 
haired  Misses  Drifton,  most  remarkably  freckled  by  daylight, 
but  very  animated,  under  the  present  exciting  topic  of  con 
versation. 

"  Yes,"  averred  the  elder  Miss  Drifton,  "  1  was  sure  that 
spoilt  child  would  have  her  own  way,  and  it  served  the  old 
lady  right.  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  all  that  crying  and 
wringing  of  hands  upstairs ;  she  knew  all  about  it  from  the 
first,  and  was  perfectly  delighted  with  the  idea  of  her 
daughter  being  a  countess." 

Here  a  tall  girl,  with  a  slight  obliquity  of  vision,  and  au 
aristocratic  name,  exclaimed,  "  Why,  do  you  know  that  Pa  says 
he  remembers  when  Mr.  Tillton  peddled  his  wares  about  the 
street !  Grandpa  drove  a  chariot  then,  and  now  they  are 
tiptoppers,  and  we  are  not  fashionable  because  we  are  poor." 


110  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

"Anyhow,  she  squinted  straight  that  time,"  whispered 
Miss  Drifton  to  a  superannuated  beau  on  her  right. 

What  food  for  gossip  this  elopement  furnished  for  days  to 
the  small  circle  collected  in  the  parlor  at  the  "  Sans  Souci  1" 

Crowds  were  leaving,  and  amongst  them  the  Veres,  on 
their  way  to  pay  a  visit,  on  the  North  River,  to  their  friends 
the  L s. 

Upon  -the  banks  of  the  Hudson  stood  a  stately  mansion, 
surrounded  by  beautiful  grounds,  sloping  to  the  river's  edge. 
And  what  a  paradise  to  Alice  seemed  that  charming  resi 
dence,  after  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  Springs. 

The  whole  establishment  was  conspicuous  for  its  stately 
elegance,  presided  over  by  the  daughter  of  their  host,  one 
who  did  the  honors  of  her  father's  house  with  a  grace,  dig- 
*nity,  and  affability,  that  impressed  all  who  ever  knew  her  so 
strongly,  that,  even  now,  in  the  long  lapse  of  years,  I  can 
recall  her  queen-like  air  and  the  winning  smile  which 
redeemed  her  noble  presence  from  all  pride  or  haughti 
ness. 

Quite  a  party  were  assembled  in  the  octagon  billiard-room, 
with  its  niches  for  statues,  and  its  lofty  windows  command 
ing  beautiful  views  of  the  Kaaterskill  Mountains. 

Near  one  of  these  windows  stood  a  tall,  graceful  figure,  of 
a  beauty  so  rare  and  so  heavenly,  one  felt,  even  then,  it  was 
too  bright  in  its  touching  purity,  to  last.  Those  dark  blue 
eyes,  in  whose  peculiar  depths  were  reflected  the  inmost 
thoughts  of  a  singularly  refined  and  cultivated  mind,  were 


QR,      A      VOICE      FROM     THE     PAST.  Ill 

raised  to  the  face  of  a  gentleman  with  whom  she  was  in 
earnest  conversation. 

Alice  Vere  was  struck  as  much  with  the  countenance  of 
the  companion  of  the  lady  as  with  her  spiritual  beauty  ;  his 
was  a  face  full  of  playful  mirth,  with  open  brow,  dark  hair 
and  eyes,  illumined  by  that  intellect  which  has  since  enrolled 
his  name,  among  the  first,  upon  the  newly  opened^  pages  of 
American  literature. 

In  the  large  drawing-room,  after  tea,  were  parties  playing 
chess  and  backgammon ;  the  harp  was  uncovered,  and  ano 
ther  fair  daughter  of  the  mansion  drew  from  its  chords  deep 
notes  of  harmony,  or  their  youthful  hostess  sang  to  the 
piano,  in  her  low,  sweet  voice,  Moore's  exquisite  melodies. 

Later  in  the  evening,  the  younger  part  of  the  company 
were  enticed,  by  the  beautiful  night,  to  wander  upon  the 
portico ;  seating  themselves  on  its  steps  in  the  bright  moon 
light,  those  gentle  voices  pleaded  for  a  story,  from  one  whose 
portrait  memory  has  already  sketched. 

In  his  musical  voice  and  quaint  drollery  of  manner  he  told 
them  first  the  history  of  a  little  dog,  which  elicited  much 
merriment  from  the  delighted  group.  "  One  more,"  and 
"  only  one  more,"  was  then  earnestly  besought. 

They  had  taken  him  in  a  happy  mood,  and,  after  a  few 
moments'  thought,  he  gave  them  a  wild  story  of  more  thrill 
ing  interest,  of  a  mysteriously  haunted  house  in  their  neigh 
borhood,  tenanted  by  a  restless  ghost.  The  tale  was  ended, 
and  many  of  his  listeners  were  filled  with  superstitious  dread, 


112  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

as  they  retired  noiselessly  to  rest,  frightened  at  their  own 
footfall  in  the  hall,  and  hurrying  past  dark  corners  to  their 
rooms. 

In  recalling  those  early  stories  of  Washington  Irving's,  we 
might  suppose  them  the  pencil  etchings  of  his  beautiful 
legends  of  the  Hudson,  which  have  since  been  read  by 
young  and  old  as  magical  pictures  of  nature's  revealing, 
snatched  by  his  gifted  pen  from  the  heights  of  the  Kaaters- 
kill,  and  glancing  upon  the  bright  stream  which  will  bear 
his  fame  to  future  ages. 

The  Veres  parted  from  their  hospitable  friends,  with  grate 
ful  remembrance  of  their  charming  visit.  In  after  years, 
Alice  often  thought  of  that  little  group  and  those  three 
Graces,  clustering  together  in  loveliness  in  their  pleasant 
home ;  little  did  she  dream  how  soon  those  fair  blossoms 
would  be  severed.  Scarce  a  year  had  fled,  before  that 
blooming  cheek  and  lip,  that  tall,  slight  form,  drooped  like  a 
fading  flower ;  sweet  rose,  thou  hast  long  passed  from  earth, 
to  bloom  more  brightly  in  that  immortal  home  where  no 
blight  or  care  can  ever  harm  thee  more.  And  that  glorious 
one,  who  was  so  peerless  in  her  lofty  nature,  so  strong  in  the 
full  maturity  of  her  beauty,  you  would  have  deemed  that 
time  or  death  had  no  power  to  crush  so  bright  a  spirit ;  she, 
too,  sank  to  sleep  when  life  was  all  joyous,  and  hope  still 
young.  Her  grave  is  in  a  foreign  land,  and  her  memory  in 
the  hearts  of  all  who  loved  her. 


OR.     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  113 


CHAPTER  XL 

FASCINATING  Broadway !  how  quickly  the  mornings  fly  in 
that  crowded  mart  of  fashion.  There  were  faces  which  had 
been  seen  at  the  Springs,  greetings  from  pleasant  acquain 
tances,  belles  in  their  autumn  bonnets,  and  elegant  youths  in 
dashing  vehicles. 

Mr.  Adolphus  Pipps  was  in  New  York,  selecting  a  "  trous 
seau"  for  his  bride,  and  Mrs.  Vere  and  Alice  were  to  assist 
in  the  choice  of  her  cashmere  shawl. 

There  were  secret  consultations  held  in  a  certain  china 
store,  in  Maiden  lane,  and  long  mornings  were  spent  at 
Christy's,  in  looking  at  various  patterns,  and  ordering  whole 
sets  of  glass  and  china  shipped  for  the  South. 

The  good  Baron  Von  Whiskinheimer,  the  only  foreigner 
Mrs.  Vere  •  had  ever  admitted  within  the  precincts  of  her 
Christian  charity,  was  their  constant  attendant. 

Jocelin  had  gone  to  Philadelphia,  the  little  Beam  was 
tired  of  writing  and  had  coaxed  her  Aunt  just  to  let  her  see 
"  that  odious  man"  once  more. 

Alice  was  seated  before  her  glass,  a  fashionable  hairdresser 
had  been  sent  for;  and  the  illustrious  Toussaint,  with  his 


114  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

good-tempered  face,  small  ear-rings,  and  white  teeth,  entered 
the  room,  his  tall  figure  arrayed  in  a  spotless  apron. 

The  curling  tongs  were  heated,  and  there  was  a  perfurn< 
of  scorched  paper  as  Toussaint  commenced  operations.  Oh 
those  cruel  scissors,  they  had  no  mercy  upon  the  beautifu. 
hair.  What  an  execution  !  Alice  shrank  from  the  sight  of 
her  tortured  head,  which,  in  a  hundred  "  paprrlotes,1'  seemed 
to  stand  upon  end  in  every  direction  ;  whilst  Luna  held  the 
brushes  or  heated  the  irons,  in  silent  amazement  at  this 
curious  phenomenon ;  but,  to  Mrs.  Vere,  Toussaint's  sable 
face  was  a  most  refreshing  sight. 

The  elaborate  "coiffure"  was  completed,  and  Toussaint 
enchanted  with  his  "chef  d'oeuvre  a  la  Valliere."  Alice 
thought  herself  a  rival  to  Miss  Tillton ;  she  did  not  question 
the  style,  it  was  the  fashion,  and  that  was  enough. 

Ah !  ye  modern  belles,  fresh  from  the  last  finished  touch 
of  Auguste  Martel,  who  look  down  with  contempt  upon  the 
antiquated  superstructures  of  old  Toussaint,  remember,  as  the 
pioneer  in  a  new  and  unexplored  road  to  fame,  he  deserves 
your  thanks ;  and  there  are  many  now  living  who  can  recall 
an  incident  of  his  early  life,  that  elevates  Toussaint  in  the 
respect  of  all  who  knew  his  history. 

He  was  born  in  the  island  of  Saint  Domingo,  a  slave,  upon 
the  sugar  estate  of  a  Creole  lady.  At  the  time  of  the  insur 
rection,  he  warned  his  mistress  of  her  danger,  and  assisted  in 
her  escape  from  that  terrible  massacre.  Secreted  on  board 
an  American  vessel,  they  set  sail  for  New  York,  where  the 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE     PAST.  115 

lady  landed  without  money  and  without  friends ;  but  Tous- 
saint's  honest  heart  never  swerved  in  its  grateful  attachment 
to  one  who  had  ever  kindly  fostered  him  in  her  bet 
ter  days ;  his  strength,  his  energy,  and  his  time  were  devoted 
to  her  relief.  Patiently  he  toiled  in  a  strange  country  to 
purchase  comfort  for  his  honored  mistress. 

His  reward  followed ;  he  became  the  fashionable  hair 
dresser  of  the  day ;  but  greater  than  his  popularity  was  the 
merit  of  those  industrious  exertions  which  contributed  to  the 
support  of  his  aged  mistress  to  the  last  hour  of  her  earthly 
existence. 

Like  your  grandmothers,  gentle  readers,  do  you  not 
honor  Toussaint  ? 

The  old  man  has  long  since  retired  from  public  life,  and 
the  evening  of  his  days  is  passed,  with  his  "  good  Juliette," 
under  the  shade  of  "  his  own  vine  and  fig  tree." 

Whether  it  was  the  magical  effect  of  that  head  "  a  la  Val- 
liere,"  which  acted  too  strongly  upon  the  intoxicated  senses 
of  the  Baron  Von  Whiskinheimer,  I  know  not,  but  he  was  a 
victim  to  the  tender  passion.  Alice  was  so  surrounded  at  a 
large  and  fashionable  party,  that  she  forgot  the  Baron's 
existence,  as  he  subsided  into  his  usual  quiet  corner,  by  Mrs. 
Vere.  The  good  lady  was  speaking  of  her  return  home,  and 
the  poor  Baron  seemed  very  sorrowful ;  he  had  a  most  fear 
ful  idea  of  those  southern  wilds,  and  thought  it  a  sin  to  cage 
so  bright  a  bird  as  Alice  Vere  in  such  secluded  bowers. 

The  last  evening  of  Alice's  stay  in  New  York  had  arrived, 


116  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

she  was  full  of  regret  at  leaving,  as  she  spoke  of  her  distant 
home ;  and  the  good  Baron  looked  sadly  dejected,  when  a 
bright  idea  seemed  to  seize  him,  and  his  own  timidity  was 
overcome  as  he  implored  her  not  to  bury  herself  in  that  dismal 
retreat ;  she  had  but  to  speak  the  word,  and  she  should  be 
the  queen  of  bright  and  mirthful  realms ;  whilst  his  strong 
hand  would  lead  her  lightly  through  life,  and  his  love  scatter 
only  flowers  in  the  path. 

Alice  turned  her  beaming  face  towards  the  excellent 
Baron,  as  she  exclaimed,  "  What  a  great,  kind  heart !  Ah ! 
my  dear  Baron,  I  am  too  little  to  fill  so  vast  a  space ;  I  could 
never  imagine  you  in  love,  it  seems  something  too  sublime. 
You  will  soon  forget  I  have  taken  wing,  and  should  you  ever 
follow  us  to  those  *  wilds'  you  fancy  so  impracticable,  you 
will  see  what  a  bright  nest  I  have  in  the  old  Oaks,  and  we 
will  give  you  a  welcome  which  will  convince  you  that  our 
friendship  is  as  sincere  as  it  is  warm." 

In  the  fulness  of  his  heart  the  poor  Baron  confided  his 
disappointment  to  Mrs.  Vere,  and  the  good  lady's  eyes  filled, 
as  she  gave  him  her  hand  at  parting. 

Arthur  Vere  had  decided  to  return  home  by  sea,  and 
tried  to  persuade  his  mother  not  to  undertake  that  long  and 
tedious  land  route,  but  the  Major  shook  his  head  significant 
ly  at  his  son,  warning  him  not  to  urge  this  point,  for  he  was 
well  aware  of  his  lady's  dislike  to  water  carriage ;  there  was 
no  invention,  no  conveyance  to  be  named  in  the  same  breath 
with  her  own  coach,  for  safety  and  convenience. 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  117 

During  the  Veres'  visit  to  Philadelphia,  Miss  Menlovo 
relaxed  so  much-,  as  to  throw  open  her  doors  to  her  friends, 
who  made  many  agreeable  acquaintances  in  this  most 
rational  and  quakerly  metropolis. 

"  The  Beam "  had  carried  Alice  off  to  her  own  little  Sanc 
tum,  and  was  ransacking  her  desk  for  a  recent  letter  from 
her  brother.  A  certain  package  lay  carefully  tied  up  with 
blue-ribbon — it  was  not  in  that,  no,  but  it  was  found  at  last ; 
and  then  she  begged  Alice  just  to  read  it,  and  see  what  a 
charming  brother  he  was.  Shaking  her  bright  curls,  she 
added,  "  I  once  imagined  you  a  most  cruel  person ;  for  when 
Ned  left  I  thought  him  in  a  terrible  state  of  mind,  and 
almost  cried  my  eyes  out  about  his  disappointment;  but 
here  he  writes  as  cheerfully  as  ever,  and  speaks  of  you  as 
calmly  as  a  philosopher  of  eighty ;  I  am  sure  you  will  rejoice 
in  his  recovery,  even  more  than  I  do."  She  handed  Alice 
the  open  letter,  and  stole  to  a  window  to  watch  for  Jocelin ; 
while  her  friend  read  thus. 

"U.  S.  Frigate  C- — ,  August  10,  1810. 
"  Here  we  are  in  the  Bay  of  Naples,  dear  Marion,  and  I 
could  exclaim  in  the  words  of  an  old  Neapolitan  proverb,  *  Vedi 
Napoli  e  poi  mori,'  but  that  it  seems  to  me  it  is  the  last  wish 
or  thought,  after  knowing  anything  so  beautiful,  to  be 
satisfied  to  leave  it  hurriedly ;  or  to  dream  of  anything  so 
solemn  as  dying.  In  Rome  one  can  afford  to  be  serious  and 
thoughtful ;  but  here  Nature  is  too  enchanting,  everything 


118  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

around  you  is  too  bright,  not  to  make  existence  a  delight ; 
the  poorest  beggar  laughs  in  the  sunshine,  and  wears  a 
happier  face  than  many  a  more  favored  child  of  fortune  in 
our  own  land.  I  strolled  last  evening  along  the  Strada  de 
Chiaja,  a  scene  of  ceaseless  gaiety  and  animation;  open 
carriages  filled  with  beautiful  women,  whose  dark  eyes  gleam 
like  stars  twinkling  above  you  ;  the  lower  classes,  in  their  gay 
dresses,  devouring  maccaroni  or  iced  watermelons,  crowding 
eagerly  around  the  venders  of  sorbetto  and  lemonade ;  their 
rapid  gesticulation  and  loud  vociferation  mingling  with  the 
tinkling  of  guitars,  and  the  reckless  laughter  of  the  lazza- 
roni. 

*        V 

u  The  luxurious  breath  of  this  soft  clime,  the  resplendent 
skies  reflected  in  the  glorious*  bay,  the  enchanting  views  of 
land  and  sea,  are  enough  vto  charm  the  veriest  misanthrope 
into  contentment  with  himself  and  all  the  world.. 

"  Over  this  fair  realm  the  handsome  Murat  holds  sway, 
under  the  title  oil  King  Joachim.  You  know,  he  married 
Caroline  Bonaparte,  and  some  two  years  since  Napoleon 
assigned  to  him  the  vacant  throne  of  Naples. 

"  I  have  not  yet  visited  the  tomb  of  Virgil,  or  seen  any 
thing  of  the  beautiful  environs.  Vesuvius  is  smoking  away 
as  calmly  as  if  its  slumbering  embers  were  expiring  in  their 
sulphureous  caverns. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  little  sister,  let  me  ask  how  you 
cajoled  Aunt  Miriam  out  of  Fourth  street,  and  spirited  her 
away  to  the  Springs  1  I  think  you  must  have  bribed  the 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  110 

doctor  to  send  her  out  of  town ;  but  you  could  always 
manage  the  old  lady  when  the  sight  of  my  luckless  face  was 
so  unwelcome  a  visitant,  that  it  was  only  tolerated  in  the 
house,  during  my  short  holidays,  because  you  loved  it ;  and 
then,  the  blame  of  every  broken  window,  of  every  accidental 
domestic  calamity  fell  upon  my  head.  Do  you  remember 
when  tabby  died,  of  sheer  old  age  ?  Even  her  timely  end  was 
laid  at  my  door.  But,  little  as  poor  Aunt  Miriam  loved  my 
graceless  boyhood,  I  never  bore  her  the  less  esteem  and 
gratitude  for  all  her  devotion  and  fostering  care  of  one 
I  love  far  better  than  myself. 

"  I  cannot  fancy  you  beyond  the  dull  walls  of  that  sombre 
domicile,  and  I  fear  the  influence  of  Aunt  Miriam's  moral 
disquisitions  and  strong  philippics  against  mankind,  will  be 
greatly  weakened. 

"The  Veres  talk  of  passing  the  summer  at  Ballston 
Springs;  so  you  may  see  Alice,  and  will  understand  how 
impossible  it  was  to  know  and  not  love  her.  I  often  recall 
those  beautiful,  prayerful  eyes  of  hers,  and,  even  now,  the 
memory  of  their  gentle  glance  reflects  its  tranquil  light  upon 
my  heart.  She  is  associated  with  my  far  distant  home,  with 
you,  my  *  winsome  darling,7  and  with  all  that  is  most  holy 
and  most  sacred  in  thought,  but  not  with  the  passionate 
love  or  wild  emotion  I  had  imagined  as  steadfast  as  my 


"Let  me   hear  from  you  soon,  and  write  me  of  your 
experiences  in  the  gay  world  you  have  had  an  inkling  of  at  last. 


120  ECHOES    OP    A    BELLE; 

"  Remember  me  most  dutifully  to  Aunt  Miriam,  and  that 
God  may  bless  you,  is  the  prayer  of 

"  Your  devoted  Brother, 

"EDWARD  WALLACE." 

As  Alice  returned  the  letter,  with  a  warm  encomium  upon 
its  writer,  the  little  "  Beam"  twined  her  arm  lovingly  around 
her,  and  tenderly  she  was  folded  to  a  heart  that  already 
cherished  her  as  a  sister  in  its  affection.  There  was  a  well 
known  footstep  in  the  hall  below;  that  bright  face. left  its 
resting-place,  and  with  a  hasty  glance  at  the  mirror,  away 
Marion  bounded  down  the  long  stairway.  Leaning  upon  its 
balustrade  was  a  handsome  youth  glancing  upwards  at  that 
fairy  vision  of  light  and  beauty ;  and  now  the  last  step  was 
gained,  the  little  hand  put  back  the  dark  locks  from  Joce- 
lin's  brow,  and  the  rosy  lips  gave  their  silent  benediction 
as  he  stooped  to  receive  the  expected  welcome, 

Far  above  them,  in  the  shadowy  twilight,  were  prayerful, 
earnest  eyes,  looking  down  in  overflowing  tenderness  upon 
that  gentle  greeting,  and  invoking  peaoe  for  those  untried 
hearts. 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  12] 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  BRILLIANT  sunset  was  tinging  the  autumnal  woods  in  all 
their  variegated  beauty,  and  glancing  between  the  wide- 
spreading  boughs  of  the  old  Oaks,  when  the  great  gate 
swung  back  upon  its  hinges  and  Tony  cracked  his  whip 
exultingly,  as  the  yellow  coach,  and  its  jaded  horses,  passed 
the  long  wished  for  portal. 

Alice  was  already  upon  the  portico,  shaking  hands  with 
old  Fortune  and  the  delighted  Lisette.  As  the  Major  gave 
his  directions  to  Uncle  Ned,  who,  once  more  in  his  element, 
made  his  admiring  comments  upon  the  new  pair  of  northern 
horses,  the  carriage  steps  were  unfolded,  a  lady's  delicate 
foot  was  upon  them,  and  the  wayfaring  silk  bonnet  soon 
followed,  somewhat  dusty  and  bruised,  but  stately  still  in 
its  elevated  expression,  as  its  mistress  was  once  more  sur 
rounded  by  the  happy  faces  and  warm  welcome  of  her  faith 
ful  domestics. 

How  charming  their  own  home  seemed  to1  our  weary  tra 
vellers,  and  what  a  luxury  a  good  bed  is !  Such  a  one  as  Mrs. 
Vere's,  neither  too  hard  nor  too  soft,  but  elastic,  and  suggest 
ive  of  repose,  in  its  fair  linen  and  downy  pillows,  a  regular 

6 


122  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

six-footer,  with  its  tall  mahogany  posts  and  rich  carving,  sur 
mounted  by  a  set  of  chintz  curtains,  covered  with  blue  and 
pink  peacocks,  perched  upon  trees,  bearing  simultaneously 
the  most  tempting  fruits  and  flowers.  How  often,  as  a  child, 
had  Alice  esteemed  it  a  happy  privilege  to  be  allowed  to 
sleep  beneath  those  "peacock  curtains,"  or,  during  some 
temporary  indisposition,  to  while  away  the  tedious  hours  in 
counting  over  the  gay  birds,  until  her  little  brain  was  puzzled 
by  their  endless  number ;  and  the  splendid  tail  of  one,  just 
over  her,  seemed  to  open  more  widely,  as  she  gazed  fixedly 
at  its  bright  plumage,  until  her  weary  eyes  closed  in  sleep, 
and  her  peacocks  became  the  mute  sentinels  of  her  slumbers. 
Refreshed  by  her  tranquil  rest,  Alice  was  early  awake,  and 
in  the  pleasant  garden,  while  the  dew  was  still  glittering 
upon  the  roses,  and  the  blue  eyes  of  the  violets  filled  with  its 
crystal  drops. 

The  orange  trees  were  laden  with  golden  fruit,  hanging  in 
bright  balls  among  the  leaves ;  and  there  was  the  odorous 
popponax,  with  its  feathery  foliage,  shrinking  sensitively 
beneath  your  touch,  its  tiny  blossoms  filling  the  air  with 
exquisite  perfume.  This  delicate  little  mimosa,  so  peculiar 
to  our  Southern  clime,  is  associated  in  my  mind  with  the 
earliest  memories  of  home;  its  sweet  scented  breath  ever 
vividly  recalls  the  picture  of  my  little  sisters,  holding  their 
pinafores  to  catch  the  airy  treasure  I  gathered  in  handfuls 
from  the  thorny  tree ;  showering  the  flowers,  like  gilded  dust, 
upon  their  cherub  faces,  as  often  as  I  filled  their  aprons. 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  123 

And  when,  at  last,  the  yellow  heaps  were  collected,  we 
scampered  off  together,  to  pour  the  fragrant  gift  into  our 
mother's  lap.  How  softly  her  fair  hand  then  rested  upon 
our  heads,  as  she  gently  murmured,  "God  bless  my 
darlings  !" 

The  home  has  passed  to  stranger  hands,  and  the  flowers 
are  blooming  on  a  mother's  grave. 

******** 

Mrs.  Vere,  in  her  green  silk  caleche,  with  the  basket  upon 
her  arm,  once  more  wended  her  way  to  the  Settlement ;  the 
women  presented  Alice  with  dozens  of  eggs,  and  parched 
groundnuts,  or  "  pindars,"  as  they  call  them ;  simple  tokens 
of  grateful  love  to  their  young  mistress. 

The  Major  had  gone  to  town  for  a  few  days,  and  returned 
rather  depressed  in  spirits ;  the  factor's  books  were  sadly  in 
advance,  this  Northern  trip  had  swallowed  up  a  whole  crop 
at  one  gulp,  and  had  given  him  a  terrible  fit  of  the  blues ; 
whilst  his  good  lady  declared  that  nothing  would  ever  induce 
her  to  leave  home  again. 

Lucy  was  with  them  for  a  few  days,  and  as  she  wandered 
by  the  side  of  Alice,  to  their  childish  haunts,  she  seemed 
again  a  guileless,  light-hearted  girl ;  but  those  pleasant  hours 
were  fleeting  fast.  There  was  an  arrival  at  The  Oaks,  the 
guest  Mr.  Adolphus  "Wilson,  for  the  name  of  Pipps  was  ex 
punged  from  the  face  of  time.  He  had  not  grown  into  his 
new  appellation,  it  hung  loosely  upon  him  still. 

Mrs.  Vere  did  not  pretend  to  acknowledge  any  change, 


124  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

and  Alice,  before  welcoming  him,  softly  repeated  the  name 
of  Wilson.  He  advanced  to  offer  his  hand,  she  looked  into 
the  familiar  face,  when  out  popped  the  odious  cognomen, 
after  all ;  there  was  no  use  of  mincing  it,  she  might  as  well 
clap  on  the  final  "  s,"  better  than  leave  it  poor,  little,  naked 
"Pipp,"  without  its  only  redeeming  point.  Blushing  and 
laughing  at  her  own  "  gaucherie,"  the  young  lady  was  more 
successful  in  her  next  attempt ;  as  Lucy  Summers  entered  the 
room,  the  harmonious  combination  was  music  to  her  ear, 
and  in  her  bright  eye  there  was  a  gleam  of  triumph,  as  the 
tips  of  those  delicate  fingers  were  raised  to  the  lips  of  her 
chosen  lord. 

It  was  a  gloomy  looking  morning  for  a  bridal  day ;  heavy 
clouds,  threatening  rain,  hung  black  and  lowering  above 
them,  as  the  wedding  guests  were  conveyed  to  the  residence 
of  Colonel  Summers. 

The  long  and  narrow  parlor  was  filled  with  ladies,  ranged 
in  chairs  against  the  wall,  while  the  men  were  grouped 
apart,  when  Mrs.  Vere  was  ushered  in  by  the  Colonel, 
followed  by  the  Major  and  his  two  sons.  Alice  had  joined 
Lucy  as  bridesmaid;  there  was  a  slight  stir  among  the 
visitors,  their  pastor  had  arrived,  the  door  opened,  and  the 
Bride  entered,  robed  in  elegant  simplicity,  upon  the  arm  of 
her  gay  groom. 

The  beautiful  Ritual  was  distinctly  and  impressively  read, 
the  solemn  vow  enforced,  but  from  Lucy  there  was  no 
responsive  sign ;  her  drooping  head  was  motionless,  her  lips 


OR,     A    VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  125 

seemed  turned  to  stone,  and  her  hand  trembled,  as  the  mar 
riage  symbol  rested  upon  her  finger ;  the  benediction  -was 
given,  and  they  were  pronounced  man  and  wife. 

From  the  further  end  of  the  room,  Jocelin  Vere  had  wit 
nessed  the  ceremony.  Once  only  he  had  caught  a  glimpse  of 
those  long  fair  curls,  shading  her  brow  and  cheek ;  there 
was  something  appalling  in  the  deadly  pallor  of  that  face, 
and  he  could  not  look  again.  But,  amidst  the  buzz  of  many 
voices,  and  surrounded  by  her  relatives,  Lucy  had  not 
observed  his  presence ;  he  had  arrived  only  the  day  previous, 
and  she  believed  him  still  absent. 

He  advanced  to  offer  the  usual  congratulations,  when  her 
startled  glance  met  his ;  a  bright  flush  suffused  her  conscious 
brow,  then  quickly  fled,  as  sinking  into  a  chair,  she  whisper 
ed  "  Give  me  air,  I'm  stifling,"  and  they  bore  her  fainting 
from  the  spot. 

After  some  gentle  restorative,  the  bridal  robe  was  ex 
changed,  the  handsome  coach  and  four  drew  up  in  style, 
and  the  "  happy  pair  "  were  whirled  rapidly  from  the  door. 

The  company  had  tasted  the  wedding  cake  and  wine,  and 
were  repairing  hurriedly  to  their  homes,  beneath  the  increas 
ing  gloom  of  a  sullen  sky.  Alice  sat  silently  by  her  mother's 
side,  and  Jocelin  looked  strangely  troubled,  as  Mrs.  Vere 
protested  against  fainting  fits,  a  weakness  she  never  had 
been  guilty  of  in  her  whole  life. 

Our  party  were  scarcely  within  their  own  hall,  when  the 
rain  poured  down  in  torrents,  the  winds  were  let  loose,  and 


126  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

the  great  arms  of  the  giant  trees  were  tossed  wildly  upwards, 
with  the  long  grey  moss  clinging  to  their  boughs. 

But  the  gust  had  now  spent  its  fury,  the  storm  was  lulling 
fast,  light  clouds  were  scudding  with  the  wind,  and  the  sun 
set  gloriously  in  the  golden  west. 

As  Alice  stood  in  the  softened  light  of  that  Autumn  even 
ing,  looking  at  those  gorgeous  skies,  why  seemed  the  day 
so  prophetic  to  her  heart  of  Lucy's  fate?  The  sun  was 
sinking  fast,  but  his  last  lingering  ray  smiled  hopefully  on 
Earth,  giving  promise  of  a  brighter  morrow. 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THEj^PAST.          127 


j^P 


CHAPTER  XEI. 

WRAPPED  in  her  cashmere  and  with  waving  plumes,  Lucy 
sat  in  her  carriage  with  Alice  by  her  side;  she  was  full 
of  animation,  relating  the  different  gossip  of  the  day,  not 
a  vestige  of  care  upon  her  brow,  not  a  shadow  of  regret 
in  her  sparkling  eyes ;  and  Alice  rejoiced  in  her  friend's 

happiness  as  she  laughed  merrily  at  her  graceful  pleasantries. 
******* 

Alone  in  a  spacious  apartment  was  a  gentleman  of  slight 
proportions,  dressed  with  elaborate  care,  his  grey  hair  dis 
posed  of  to  the  best  advantage,  and,  with  an  expression 
of  ineffable  complacency,  he  smiled  benignly  upon  himself 
and  all  the  world. 

The  clock  upon  the  mantel  struck  its  tinkling  chime, 
when  dinner  was  announced  with  due  precision,  but  those 
slowly  pacing  feet  paused  in  their  solitary  walk ;  there  was 
an  anxious  glance  towards  the  timepiece,  as  the  gentle 
man  seated  himself  with  heroic  patience.  Tick — tick — tick, 
repeated  the  ceasc4ess  monitor,  and  the  pumps  and  silk 
stockings  twitched  nervously  upon  the  hearth-rug,  when 
the  sound  of  a  light  step  floated  upon  his  ear,  and  Lucy,  radi- 


, 


128  ECHOES    OP    A    BELLE; 

ant  in  beauty,  stood  before  him.  But  Mr.  Adolphus  Wilson 
was  not  to  be  soothed  in  his  present  perturbation  of  spirit ; 
he  elevated  his  eyebrows,  and  remarked  with  a  preliminary 
cough,  "  that  dinner  had  been  kept  waiting  some  fifteen 
minutes,  and  that  he  must  beg  leave  to  insist  upon  greater 
punctuality  in  the  mistress  of  his  establishment."  With  a 
faint  laugh  and  a  careless  toss  of  her  head,  she  exclaimed, 
"  Insist !  Mr.  Wilson,  that  is  a  strong  word  surely ;  this 
tete-a-tete  dinner  is  dull  enough  without  adding  to  its 
ceremony  a  sermon  upon  punctuality." 

They  were  seated  at  table,  but  their  repast  was  soon 
dismissed  in  chilling  silence,  for  Mr.  Wilson  had  lost  his 
appetite,  and  Lucy's  curling  lip  disdained  to  heal  the  wound 
her  words  had  inflicted. 

How  temptingly  the  ruby  wine  sparkled  in  his  glass  ; 
how  cheering  its  genial  warmth,  as  it  flowed  freely  from 
its  crystal  cell,  and  for  whom  ?  The  temperate,  cautious 
man,  the  excellent  Adolphus  Pipps.  Ah !  changed  indeed 
in  name  and  heart  was  the  shadow  of  our  friend. 

The  lady  was  in  her  luxurious  drawing-room.  This  had 
not  been  the  first  discord  marring  the  harmony  of  her  mar- 
Tied  life,  and  alas !  for  that  proud  heart,  there  was  no  tre 
mulous  regret,  no  softening  tear,  nor  aught  in  her  estrange 
ment  that  could  sue  for  peace. 

To  those  alone  who  love,  is  such  contrition  known,  when 
the  averted  eye  of  affection  no  longer  meets  your  pleading 
look,  when  the  familiar  step  no  longer  seeks  your  favorite 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  129 

haunts,  and  your  life  seems  suddenly  darkened,  for  you  feel 
how  desolate  this  world  would  be  without  the  communion 
of  that  true  heart  which  alone  responds  to  yours.  Then 
comes  the  gushing  memory  of  many  kindnesses,  and  all 
thought  of  pride  is  swept  away  as  you  deplore  in  falter 
ing  tones  your  hasty  words  or  thoughtless  act,  and  long 
before  the  quivering  lip  has  ceased  to  speak,  you  are  caught 
to  that  yearning  breast,  and  your  forgiveness  sealed  in  sweet 
reconcilement,  as  you  taste  again  the  blessedness  of  confiding 
love. 

The  damask  curtains  were  dropped,  the  candles  lighted, 
and  Lucy  engrossed  in  a  novel,  when  the  sound  of  voices 
was  followed  by  the  entrance  of  Jocelin,  Vere,  and  Howard. 
They  were  greeted  with  graceful  ease,  and  how  brilliant  she 
was  in  her  reckless  mirth,  how  fascinating  in  her  sparkling 
originality ! 

In  addressing  Jocelin,  there  was  still  a  lingering  reserve 
of  manner  which  interested  him  unconsciously,  and  he  went 
home  to  dream  of his  little  Beam  ? 

Ah  !  no,  the  spell  of  earlier  days  enthralled  him,  and  those 
blue  eyes  were  fading  from  his  sight ;  but  they  seemed 
reproachful  only  in  his  sleep,  and  how  can  a  man  help 
his  dreams  ? 

******* 

Walter  had  returned,  and  as  he  ascended  the  steps  of 
the  Vere  mansion,  he  paused  for  an  instant  ere  he  sought  the 
welcome  he  so  ardently  had  longed  for.  The  grim  knocker 

6* 


130  ECHOES    OP    A    BELLE; 

was  raised,  and  its  sonorous  echo  answered  by  old  Fortune, 
who  stared  vacantly  at  the  visitor  until  he  spoke ;  when 
those  dim  eyes  were  suddenly  enlightened,  and  our  travel 
ler  joyfully  announced. 

He  was  received  by  the  Major  and  Mrs.  Vere,  with 
cordial  affection  ;  but  Alice,  whither  had  she  flown  ?  There 
were  some  flowers  upon  a  table,  with  a  book  half  closed, 
one  he  had  given  her  in  years  gone  by.  The  volume  was 
in  his  hand,  when  a  card  fell  from  between  the  leaves ;  he 
merely  glanced  at  it,  but  the  name  written  there  had  con 
jured  up  some  painful  thought,  which  banished  the  smile 
from  his  lips,  and  declining  Mrs.  Vere's  hospitality,  he 
hurried  back,  alone,  to  his  cheerless  lodgings. 


In  the  character  of  Walter's  face  there  was.  strength  and 
energy  of  will ;  he  was  not  a  man  to  be  lightly  won,  or 
easily  moved.  Thrown  at  an  early  age  upon  his  own 
resources,  the  boy  had  fought  his  way  bravely  on — through 
many  trials  and  great  temptations ;  his  serious  and  earnest 
mind  had  ever  rejected  the  false,  and  seized  with  avidity  the 
true.  Singularly  isolated  in  his  social  position,  he  shrank 
from  intimate  communion  with  the  many,  but  in  that  firm 
and  constant  heart,  the  few  he  valued  were  cherished  with  a 
devotion  as  true  as  unshaken.  His  love  for  Alice  Vere  was 
among  the  earliest  and  most  sacred  of  these  impressions,  but 


OR,      A     VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  131 

it  was  of  a  nature  too  exalted  and  too  unselfish  to  have 
exacted  from  her  guileless  affection,  any  promise  of  its  con 
stancy;  she  was  too  innocent  and  childlike  then  to  com 
prehend  this  ardent  emotion,  or  to  receive  so  great  a  trust. 
He  had  left  her  untrammelled  by  any  vow,  and  her  destiny 
would  be  the  accomplishment  of  her  own  choice. 

In  distant  lands,  syren  voices  and  seductive  glances  fell 
powerless  around  him.  He  had  not  even  dreamed  of  temp 
tation,  when  an  accidental  circumstance  revealed  to  him  the 
love  of  one  as  virtuous  as  she  was  beautiful ;  how  gently, 
how  delicately  he  discouraged  this  preference ;  how  frankly 
he  confided  to  her  his  attachment  to  another,  and  won  the 
sympathy  of  that  fair  friend,  and  her  kindly  interest,  without 
wounding  her  self-esteem,  or  betraying  his  knowledge  of  her 
secret 

Years  passed,  and  he  returned  to  the  home  of  his  boy 
hood  ;  there  were  busy  tongues  who  confidently  asserted 
Alice's  engagement  to  an  Englishman  of  rank  and  fortune, 
and  that  the  marriage  was  to  take  place  in  the  spring; 
every  one  said  the  affair  was  settled,  and  it  must  be  so. 


Sad   and   faint  grew  the  heart   of  Walter 

Gray,  as  he  mused  over  his  own  solitary  fate,  with  the  hope 
he  had  so  long  clung  to  thus  early  blighted.  And  yet  he 
could  not  blame  her,  nor  did  the  thought  of  his  more 
favored  rival  call  up  feelings  of  enmity  or  unkindness.  He 
had  seen  his  name  placed  within  the  pages  of  Alice's  book,  and 


132  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

he  could  fancy  how  her  eye  had  rested  upon  it,  as  she 
traced  in  hopeful  characters  her  own  bright  fate. 

In  her  riding-dress,  at  the  end  of  the  hall, 

stood  a  fair  equestrian ;  Arthur  hastened  towards  her, 
his  countenance  glowing  with  delight,  as  he  gaily  asked, 
"  Who  do  you  think  has  come  ?"  A  mingled  look  of  hope 
and  doubt  passed  over  his  sister's  face,  but  the  mystery  was 
soon  solved,  for  he  quickly  added,  "  one  whose  name  you 
have  forbidden  me  to  mention."  He  felt  the  pressure  of  her 
hand  upon  his  arm,  as  in  a  low  voice  she  murmured,  "  Tell 
me,  Arthur,  is  he  here?"  and  the  color  returned  to  her 
cheek,  when  she  heard  that  Walter  had  been  to  the  house, 
but  had  left  it  a  short  time  since. 

How  strange  that  he  did  not  wait!  In  old  times  he 
would  have  lingered  for  hours  just  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her 
flitting  form.  Then  came  the  chilling  thought  of  his  in 
difference,  and  the  little  head  was  thrown  proudly  back,  the 
gathering  tears  repressed.  * 

Through  the  brilliant  apartments  of  a  stately  dwelling 
glided  a  graceful  figure ;  sweeping  folds  of  soft  satin  fell 
around  her  beautiful  person,  and  a  diamond  tiara  glittered 
on  her  brow. 

Guests  were  fast  assembling,  and  Lucy  Wilson  was  queen 
of  that  festive  hall. 

Alice  entered  with  her  brothers ;  what  refinement  of 
loveliness,  what  unsullied  purity  in  her  whole  oppression ! 


OB,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE     PAST.  133 

Surrounded  by  many  claimants  for  her  smiles,  she  treated 
with  winning  kindness  the  most  humble  and  retiring. 
Even  the  blushing  Digby  recovered  his  self-possession,  as 
she  congratulated  him  upon  his  recent  marriage  with  the 
younger  Miss  Liston. 

Alice  had  declined  dancing,  when  a  gentleman  was  pre 
sented  to  her  as  Captain  Rosling,  of  the  army.  His  ad 
vances  were  coldly  met,  but  his  familiar  manner  and  cool 
assurance  were  not  easily  discouraged,  and  he  was  still 
whispering  some  trivial  nonsense  in  her  ear,  when  her  head 
was  impatiently  raised,  and  in  a  mirror  directly  opposite 
she  beheld  the  face  of  Walter  Gray.  His  tall  form,  and 
the  aristocratic  beauty  of  his  features,  made  him  conspicuous 
among  many. 

Leaning  against  a  marble  pedestal,  with  her  long  dark 
lashes  almost  resting  upon  her  cheek,  stood  Alice  Vere.  A 
step  approached,  when  her  eyes  were  slowly  lifted,  and  her 
hand  extended  in  silent  greeting  to  her  friend. 

There  was  sadness  in  the  tone  of  Walter's  voice,  and  it 
faltered  slightly  as  he  spoke  her  name,  for  his  heart  was 
full  of  those  early  memories,  and  she  was  lovelier  than  even 
his  fondest  imagining  had  pictured  her. 

They  had  wandered  to  another  room,  away  from  the 
dancing  and  the  crowd,  when  half  reproachfully  he  asked, 
"Am  I  so  great  a  stranger,  Alice,  that  you  welcome  me 
thus  coldly  ?  Tell  me,  truly,  if  this  little  hand  were  ungloved, 
should  I  see  my  parting  gift  upon  your  finger,  or  has  it 


134  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

been  cast  aside  with  childish  thoughts,  and  the  associations 
of  those  young  days  ?" 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  then,  in  trembling 
accents,  she  replied,  "Your  ring  is  not  upon  my  finger, 
Walter,  but  do  not  ask  me  why." 

Gazing  earnestly  upon  her  blushing  face,  he  exclaimed, 
"  It  was,  indeed,  an  idle  question,  for  I  had  no  claim  to  be 
remembered ;  but,  in  this  world,  we  are  selfish,  even  in  our 
best  affections.  I  must  learn  now  to  think  only  of  your 
happiness  ;  that  I  have  no  part  in  it  is  my  own  sorrow,  and 
its  shadow  must  not  fall  upon  your  path." 

The  company  were  thronging  gaily  past  them  on  their 
way  to  supper  ;  his  arm  was  offered,  and  she  was  grateful  for 
its  support,  for  that  long  and  brilliantly  lighted  stairway 
seemed  floating  from  beneath  her  feet.  She  was  soon  con 
scious  of  hearing  the  hum  of  many  voices,  and  when  that 
strange  faintness  had  passed,  she  looked  around  for  Walter, 
but  Captain  Rosling  was  smiling  in  his  place,  jestingly 
inquiring  if  the  tall  knight  who  had  carried  her  off  so  boldly 
had  been  vanquished,  adding,  that  he  only  hoped  his  banish 
ment  was  for  -ife.  She  did  not  condescend  to  notice  either 
the  gentleman  or  his  speech,  when  Arthur  whispered,  "  Alice, 
you  look  tired  ;  had  you  not  better  go  2" 

How  gladly  she  sank  into  a  corner  of  the  old  coach,  whilst 
her  brother  was  too  considerate  to  question  her  silence. 

They  were  soon  at  home,  and  in  her  own  room,  pacing- 
its  dim  length,  was  our  gentle  heroine.  Speaking  to  herself, 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  135 

as  if  in  sleep,  she  slowly  asked,  "  What  does  this  mean  ?  Why 
does  he  tell  me  that  he  can  have  no  part  in  my  happiness  ? 
Why  does  he  look  so  mournfully  upon  me,  or  speak  of  his 
sorrow  as  something  I  may  not  share  ?  Oh  !  Walter,  you 
know  not  the  heart  whose  sympathy  you  reject ;  and  yet  I 
am  too  proud  to  regret  his  affection  or  to  seek  the  confidence 
lie  withholds." 


Oh !  blessed  sleep,  to  the  vexed  heart  and 

weary  frame  how  sweet  thy  mystic  spell !  On  noiseless  wing 
thou  visitest  the  couch  of  all  humanity,  and  the  crowned 
head  in  its  gilded  royalty  cannot  purchase  greater  luxury. 

Most  merciful  art  thou  to  the  poor  and  sorrowing  among 
the  children  of  men.  But,  for  those  long  tried  by  physical 
pain  or  mental  anguish,  0  gentle  spirit!  close  the  aching 
lids  and  soothe  the  fevered  brain,  until  they,  too,  forget  in 
peaceful  slumber  their  suffering  and  their  woe  ! 


136  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

AT  a  dinner  given  by  the  Veres,  in  compliment  to  Walter, 
he  was  placed  upon  the  right  of  the  lady  of  the  house,  and 
as  Gray's  deferential  manner  was  even  more  marked  to 
elderly  women  than  to  the  young  and  beautiful,  this  simple 
kindness  won  for  him  golden  opinions  5  whilst  his  varied 
knowledge  and  solid  acquirements  gave  to  his  conversation 
that  elevated  tone  which  addressed  itself  at  once  to  the 
higher  feelings  and  enchained  the  attention,  without  argu 
mentative  display  or  the  arrogant  assumption  of  intellectual 
superiority. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  the  gentlemen  left  the 
table ;  but  Walter  had  made  his  escape  among  the  first,  and 
was  seated  with  Alice,  talking  of  Lucy  Wilson.  He  had 
expressed  his  disappointment  in  her  marriage  and  his  disap 
probation  of  her  present  levity,  when  Alice  pleaded,  in  exte 
nuation,  her  friend's  youth  and  beauty,  and  the  great  dis 
parity  in  Mr.  Wilson's  age ;  "  Besides,"  she  added,  more 
warmly,  "  if  ill-natured  people  choose  to  comment  upon  her 
words  and  actions,  she  is  too  independent  to  care  for  their 
praise  or  censure." 

"  Ah !"  replied  Walter,  "  men  only  can  thus  defy  publio 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  137 

opinion :  in  the  code  of  this  world's  morality,  they  need  not 
stop  to  wipe  off  the  stains  with  scrupulous  nicety,  from  the 
surface  of  their  character,  but  dash  along  with  a  bold  front, 
and  never  mind  the  rust,  so  it  tarnish  not  the  honor  of  a 
gentleman,  whilst  womanly  purity  must  be  sheathed  with 
greater  caution ;  let  but  a  spot  rest  on  her  fair  fame,  how 
ever  unjustly,  and,  like  the  crimson  dye  upon  the  key,  in  the 
old  fairy  tale,  it  will  only  glow  the  brighter  with  every  effort 
to  efface  it." 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  his  companion,  "  and  there  are  tyrannical 
bluebeard  ,  murderous  in  intention  and  unrelenting  in  heart, 
who  triumph  in  the  evidence  of  her  frailty,  or  deny  to  suspect 
ed  innocence  the  scant  covering  of  their  boasted  charity." 

Never  had  Alice  appeared  more  beautiful  than  as  the  ear 
nest  champion  of  her  sex.  As  Walter  rose  to  take  leave,  he 
exclaimed,  with  playful  emphasis,  "  If  mercy  were  represent 
ed  always  thus  temptingly,  there  would  be  no  need  of  judg 
ment  or  law  upon  earth." 

He  had  gone,  and  we  will  not  follow  him  to  his  solitary 
room,  but  visit  the  rich  man's  chamber,  where  in  an  arm 
chair,  by  the  fire,  was  the  recumbent  figure  of  Mr.  Wilson, 
suffering  from  an  attack  of  the  gout,  which,  like  the  Pipps 
diamond,  was  an  heirloom  in  the  family.  His  face  was  con- 
tracted  by  pain,  and  with  temper  somewhat  discomposed,  he 
declined  impatiently  the  assistance  of  his  servant  in  the 
usual  nocturnal  preparations. 

The  assiduous  valet  moved  with  noiseless  tread  about  the 


138  ECHOES    OP    A    BELLE; 

room,  whilst  his  master's  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  glowing 
embers,  as  if  he  were  building  some  brilliant  castle,  not  in 
the  air,  but  in  the  flickering  blaze  or  bright  coals  upon  the 
hearth.  The  burning  log  had  fallen  apart,  throwing  up  a, 
shower  of  sparks,  and  in  the  crumbling  fragments  he  traced 
the  outlines  of  a  familiar  face.  How  fancy  brightened  as  he 
gazed !  There  was  some  pleasant  association  with  that  gro 
tesque  head,  crowned  with  the  high  top  comb  of  the  long 
forgotten  Sophia  Murrel !  But  the  image  was  fading  fast, 
the  lofty  head  was  veiled  in  ashen  whiteness,  and  as  the  gen 
tleman  sank  back  upon  his  cushions,  a  deep  sigh  burst  from 
his  heaving  breast. 

Hark!  what  a  merry  laugh,  how  musically  it  rang 
through  the  quiet  domicile;  but  upon  the  sick  man's  ear 
that  joyous  peal  fell  painfully.  He  caught  the  sound  of  light 
footsteps,  and,  as  they  passed  his  door,  a  sudden  movement 
of  his  imprisoned  limbs  was  followed  by  a  sharp  twinge,  and 
his  tortured  frame  writhed  in  agony. 

We  will  not  linger  by  his  couch,  for  mirthful  voices 
woo  us  to  lighter  thoughts,  as  we  join  a  small  party  at  the 
supper  table,  where  Lucy  presided,  with  enchanting  grace. 

Among  her  guests  there  was  Mrs.  Fairly,  a  bold,  dashing 

« 
woman,   giving   her   opinions   freely,   unburdened   by  any 

scrupulous  refinement  or  puling  sensibility ;  whilst  hei 
husband,  a  pale,  meek  man,  listened  habitually  to  her 
emphatic  conversation  without  presuming  to  offer  a  dissent 
ing  word. 


OB,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  139       , 

Poor  Tom  !  most  unobtrusive  and  resigned  of  mortals,  your 
patient  soul  never  questioned  the  despotic  rights  of  Mrs. 
Fairly. 

Captain  Rosling  was  an  attache  of  the  lady's ;  he  drove 
Tom's  horses,  smoked  Tom's  cigars,  and  in  the  evening  took 
Madame  to  the  play  or  a  crowded  rout,  to  the  inexpressible 
relief  of  her  unsophisticated  husband. 

Late  the  party  tarried,  whilst  the  generous  wines  and  the 
ready  wit  flashed  brightly ;  but  the  table  was  deserted  now, 
the  revellers  were  gone,  yet  lingering  last  of  all  was  Jocelin 
Vere.  Lucy  was  in  the  gallery  leading  to  the  drawing-room. 
She  moved  thoughtfully  on,  plucking  the  leaves  from  her 
bouquet,  and  treading  upon  the  rosy  petals  as  they  fell.  Soon 
a  firm  step  kept  pace  with  hers,  and  a  low  voice  sued  for  the 
flowers  in  her  hand.  Lifting  her  large  bright  eyes,  she  said, 
"  You  wonder  how  I  can  destroy  anything  so  beautiful ; 
flowers  speak  to  you  of  love  and  hope,  of  freshness  and  purity ; 
they  are  full  of  revealings  to  the  loved  and  happy,  they  are 
angelic  messengers  to  the  innocent  and  true,  but  to  me  they 
are  cold  and  silent ;  I  cannot  read  their  poesy,  and  my  heart 
is  untouched  by  their  sweet  influences." 

Jocelin  eagerly  exclaimed,  "  They  do  indeed  speak  to  me 
of  love,  and  of  one  lovelier  than  earth's  fairest  flowers,  of  one 
whom  I  can  only  associate  with  all  that  is  beautiful  and 
bright." 

Standing  silently  before  her,  with  the  light  of  that  passion 
ate  love  kindling  in  his  eye,  one  glance  told  her  all.  With 


140  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

her  face  bowed  upon  her  hands,  Lucy  sank  into  a  seat  as  he 
whispered,  "  Will  you  not  confide  in  me,  cannot  we  love  as 
in  those  early  days,  and  be  as  happy,  as  innocent  as  then  ?" 

Hurriedly  she  answered,  "Never,  Jocelin,  you  deceive 
yourself ;  in  pity  leave  me  now !" 

His  arm  encircled  her  drooping  form,  his  breath  was  upon 
her  cheek — it  was  but  for  a  moment,  and  his  retreating  step 
died  in  the  distance. 

Gliding  to  her  chamber,  the  key  was  quickly  turned  within 
the  lock ;  then,  with  clasped  hands  and  wildly  beaming  eyes, 
she  murmured,  "He  loves  me!  this  is  happiness  indeed!" 

Every  feature  was  illumined  with  joy,  and  her  whole 
frame  trembled  with  emotion,  as  the  rapturous  thought  glowed 
within  her  heart. 

"Why  recoiled  that  form,  as  if  some  evil  threatened  its 
bright  life  ?  The  cup  of  bliss  was  lifted  to  her  lips,  its  nee- 
tared  drops  were  honied  sweet,  but  a  secret  voice  warned 
her  of  the  poisoned  chalice.  She  shrank  affrighted  as  her 
own  heart  repeated,  "  What  hast  thou  to  do  with  love !" 

The  gray  light  of  early  dawn  streamed  through  thit  cur 
tained  room,  its  inmate  slept,  and  we  will  draw  the  silken 
folds  around  the  lady's  couch,  and  leave  her  to  her  dreams. 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  141 


CHAPTER  XV. 

To  Jooefin  Vere  the  morning  broke  dimly.  His  first  awaken 
ing  thoughts  were  painfully  confused,  but  suddenly  the  truth 
flashed  upon  his  mind.  Under  the  excitement  of  undue  con 
viviality,  he  had  betrayed  the  senseless  passion  he  had  so 
firmly  resolved  to  conquer.  The  image  of  his  little  Marion, 
with  the  recollection  of  her  confiding  love,  rose  reproachfully 
before  him.  Her  last  letter  had  been  left  too  long  un 
answered.  She  did  not  blame  him  when,  in  return  for  her 
long  pages,  he  had  written  only  a  few  hurried  lines,  but 
chided  him,  in  her  childlike  way,  for  being  a  sad  lazy  boy, 
and  that  she  should  punish  him  some  day  for  having  teased 
her  so.  He  read  those  simple,  touching  words  again.  How 
could  he  answer  them  now,  with  deceit  and  falsehood  ?  Had 
he  not  wronged  her  young  and  trusting  heart  ?  He  would 
write  at  once,  confess  his  fault,  and  absolve  her  from  her 
vow ;  but  how  sad  thus  to  blight  her  joyous  existence,  for  he 
knew  how  closely  this  affection  was  entwined  with  the  deli 
cate  fibres  of  her  life,  and  he  could  not  snap,  with  reckless 
hand,  the  tie  which  bound  her  to  him  so  tenderly.  No; 
things  must  take  their  course.  He  would  avoid  temptation 


142  ECHOES    OP    A    BELLE; 

for  the  future,  and  leave  for  The  Oaks.     There  was  an  en 
gagement  to-day,  but  nothing  should  detain  him  to-morrow. 

At  an  earlier  hour  than  usual,  Captain  Rosling  made  his 
appearance  at  Mrs.  Fairly's.  He  was  in  high  spirits,  full  of  a 
delightful  bit  of  gossip,  which  he  hinted  at  vaguely,  but  after 
some  persuasion  was  induced  to  reveal,  as  he  said,  rather 
mysteriously.  "  Late  last  night,  I  was  returning  to  my  lodg 
ings,  having  first  seen  your  ladyship  home,  when  I  passed  the 
Wilsons'  door,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  met  a  gentleman, 
with  his  hat  slouched  over  his  eyes,  who  bru  hed  past  me  so 
hastily  that  he  nearly  pushed  me  off  the  side-walk.  At  a 
glance  I  recognised  in  the  gay  Lothario,  Jocelin  Vere." 

"  Ho !  ho !"  exclaimed  his  eager  listener,  "  this  is  the  im 
maculate  Mrs.  Wilson.  So  the  wind  sets  that  way,  does  it  ?" 
Arranging  the  folds  of  her  shawl,  she  was  soon  equipped  for 
a  walk,  laughing  long  and  loudly  as  the  Captain  recommended 
silence  upon  the  subject  for  the  present. 

But  the  lady  had  an  intimate  friend,  it  was  no  harm  to 
tell  it  in  strict  confidence  to  her.  Indignantly  she  summed 
up  the  atrocious  revelation,  adding,  "  And  this  is  the  end  of 
all  her  high  notions,  holding  her  head  above  every  one  else  ; 
whilst  her  poor  old  gouty  husband  is  shut  up  in  his  room, 
she  spends  his  money  bravely,  and  entertains  the  men  at  her 
elegant  establishment.  Think  of  my  being  so  imposed 
upon  !  I  can't  believe  it  yet,  and  shall  suppose  the  Captain 
mistaken,  unless  I  have  further  proof." 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  148 

"  My  dear,"  interposed  her  worthy  coadjutor,  "  what  further 
proof  can  you  require — a  man  seen  coming  stealthily  out 
of  her  house  at  such  an  hour  !  and  when  every  one  knows 
that  her  husband  and  herself  quarrel  like  cat  and  dog." 

"Well,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Fairly,  "I  am  engaged  to  go  to 
the  play  with  her  to-night,  and  shall  judge  for  myself.  She 
can't  deceive  me,  now  that  my  eyes  are  opened."  Thus 
parted  these  amiable  associates,  and  thanks  to  their  bene 
volent  efforts  the  affair  did  not  stagnate. 

And  our  young  philosopher  who  had  reasoned  so  sternly, 
with  his  head  resting  comfortably  upon  his  pillow,  at  morn, 
where  shall  we  find  him,  now  that  night  closes  upon  the 
busy  world  ? 

Strolling  carelessly  along  the  principal  thoroughfare  to 
the  theatre.  Lucy  would  be  there,  but  he  need  not  seek 
her  box. 

She  was  late  that  night.  How  pale  and  silent 

she  was,  with  her  bright  eyes  wandering  restlessly  over  the 
house.  As  Jocelin  came  forward  a  glance  of  tender  reproach 
met  his,  he  could  not  resist  it ;  in  another  moment  Mrs. 
Fairly  made  room  for  him  to  pass,  and  his  prudent  resolu 
tions  were  forgotten. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  play,  whilst  Howard  was  looking 
for  her  carriage,  Lucy  leant  upon  the  arm  of  Jocelin  Vere ; 
placing  a  note  in  his  hand,  she  whispered,  "  Read  this  and 
grant  all  I  ask."  The  billet  was  cautiously  received,  but  not 


144  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

before  the  keen  eyes  of  Mrs.  Fairly  had  observed,  with 
malicious  triumph,  the  secret  missive. 

Jealous  of  Lucy's  superior  attractions,  and  of  her  position 
in  society,  beneath  the  profession  of  sincere  friendship  she 
had  eagerly  watched  for  some  imprudence  on  the  part  of 
her  fair  friend,  but  hitherto  she  could  recall  no  look  or  word 
which  her  own  evil  mind  could  warp  into  a  suspicion  of 
blame. 

*.**.*•• 

Upon  the  page  of  Lucy's  letter  there  were  tears,  such 
tears  as  only  the  impulsive,  passionate  heart  of  youth  can 
understand, 

"I  do  not  reproach  you,  Jocelin,  for  your  thoughtless 
words,  words  that  are  fraught  with  danger  to  us  both.  I 
only  know  that  the  love  you  have  breathed  would  plant 
within  my  soul  the  sting  of  undying  remorse.  I  only  feel 
we  must  not  meet  again.  Leave  me,  then,  while  I  still  have 
strength  and  courage  to  bid  you  go.  Return  to  that  guile 
less  one  whose  innocent  love  will  lead  you  to  wiser  thoughts, 
seek  in  her  purity  and  truth  your  surest  safety. 

"  I  am  too  proud  to  envy  the  happiness  you  have  bestowed 
upon  another,  and  no  act  or  word  of  mine  shall  disturb  her 
peace. 

"  Then,  farewell,  Jocelin ;  think  of  me  only  as  the  world 
deems  me,  cold  and  vain  and  heartless,  but  not  as  I  might 
have  been,  not  as  you  have  last  known  me.  And  when  we 


OR,      A      VOICE     FROM     THE      PAST.  146 

look  back  through  the  fading  light  of  time,  to  this  early 
affection,  when  the  noon-tide  heat,  the  battle  and  the  strife 
are  over,  may  it  still  be  to  us  a  green  spot  in  our  earthly 
pilgrimage,  where  memory  will  delight  to  linger,  for  no 
accusing  thought  shall  rob  us  of  its  enchantment,  and  no 
reproach  will  rest  upon  the  name  of 

"  LUCY." 

Woe   to   the   heart  which   cherishes  a  love   that  virtue 

• 

and  honor  forbid !  What  wild  hopes,  what  struggles,  and 
what  tears  are  born  of  such  a  passion;  even  if  there  is 
no  actual  guilt  to  be  atoned  for  by  years  of  penitence 
and  remorse. 

And  has  the  world  grown  wiser  or  better  within  the  past 
half  century  ? 

Look  at  the  shifting  scenes  in  the  great  panorama  of 
life ;  see  our  crowded  cities,  there  you  can  solve  the  pro 
blem  for  yourself,  in  the  higher  circles  of  society.  Nay,  you 
need  not  stand  on  tiptoe  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  them ;  they 
are  not  so  high  as  you  imagine. 

You  knew  that  lady,  once  a  portionless  girl,  before  her 
pretty  face  had  captivated  the  heart  of  a  wealthy  merchant. 
A  few  months  since  she  was  a  blushing,  timid  bride,  but  her 
fashionable  education  is  now  completed.  She  has  her  box 
at  the  opera,  drives  the  handsomest  carriage  in  town, 
and  dresses  to  perfection. 

It  is  such  shocking  taste  to  be  seen  for  ever  with  one's  hus- 
7 


146  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

band,  to  receive  any  attentions  from  him. in  public,  she  need 
not  trouble  herself  to  look  bewitching  for  him ;  he  never 
notices  her  dress,  he  never  says  she  is  divine. 

But  young  A is  so  stylish,  so  "  comme  il  faut,"  so 

thoughtful  of  her  wishes !  In  his  white  kids  and  that  unex 
ceptionable  tie,  he  is  just  the  appendage  necessary. 

Mr.  T dines  at  the  Club,  and  comes  home  too  tired 

to  enjoy  anything ;  the  poor  man  is  so  fond  of  making  money 
and  his  wife  of  spending  it,  both  charming  qualities  in  their 
way. 

It  is  terribly  dull  for  this  fair  creature  to  pass  a  quiet  even 
ing  at  home ;  she  does  not  believe  in  the  fabulous  enjoy 
ments  of  her  own  fireside. 

The  husband  returns,  wearied  and  harassed  by  the  cares 
of  the  day,  to  find  the  room  vacant,  and  his  wife  dressing 
for  a  fashionable  party. 

This  is  all  very  elegant,  very  innocent  no  doubt ;  but 
look  closer  at  these  dressed-up  modern  dolls.  After  all, 
they  are  only  poor  imitations  of  La  Parisienne;  and  like 
all  things  wanting  originality,  they  are  not.  pleasing. 

Are  these  the  women  America  has  gloried  in,  as  the 
nursing  mothers  of  her  Statesmen  and  heroes  ?  Nay,  her 
hardy  enterprising  sons  never  sprang  from  so  feeble  a  stock, 
nor  shall  we  find  the  mother  of  a  Washington  among  such 
vapid,  flimsy  beings  as  these. 

We  will  put  aside  the  absurdity  of  aping  bad  French  man 
ners,  and  view  the  matter  more  seriously  still ;  as  we  recall 


Oil,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  147 

many  a  sad  story  of  broken  hearts  and  ruined  peace,  to 
be  traced  alone  to  a  vanity  and  frivolity,  which  the  customs 
of  our  country  can  never  sanction. 

And  how  can  this  state  of  things  be  remedied?  By 
the  earnest  efforts  of  every  true  daughter  of  America,  who 
in  her  own  intrinsic  virtue  can  elevate  the  tone  of  society,  and 
purify  by  her  presence  the  moral  atmosphere  around  her. 

By  the  bright  example  of  those  matronly  wives,  who  in 
their  own  homes  can  rear  up  children  in  pride  and  honor, 
seeking  in  so  blessed  a  privilege  their  surest  happiness, 
adorning  themselves  in  all  loveliness  and  gentleness  of 
spirit,  making  their  dwellings  places  of  light  and  hope, 
of  confidence  and  repose  to  sinful  man. 

Oh !  woman,  how  wide  your  sway ;  you  hold  the  secret 
lever  in  your  delicate  hands,  to  move  all  this  breathing 
mass ;  then  use  your  power  to  lift  us  nearer  Heaven  ! 


148  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE  pattering  rain  of  a  gloomy  March  day  fell  steadily 
against  the  casement,  as  Alice  resigned  herself  philosophi 
cally  to  a  quiet  morning  at  home.  Drawing  her  chair  closer 
to  the  fire,  she  turned  over  the  leaves  of  a  book,  but 
those  beautiful  eyes  were  full  of  dreamy  thought,  ana 
the  volume  soon  dropped  from  her  hand ;  both  mind  and 
heart  were  weaving  a  fairy  web,  and  lighter  than  gossamer 
was  the  fabric  spun. 

Degenerate  child  of  one  who  never  wearied  in  her  cease 
less  industry,  at  whose  quick  step  the  household  keys  jingled 
pleasantly,  polished  clues  to  numberless  receptacles  of  provi 
dent  care  and  marvellous  neatness.  From  that  ample  girdle 
hung  the  peaceful  implements  of  her  morning's  work.;  the 
scissors  in  its  silvered  sheath,  and  silken  cushion  stored  with 
pins. 

To  the  dames  who  wore  them  they  were  indeed  a  charm 
against  a  host  of  ills ;  a  perfect  panacea  for  headache  or 
ennui.  But,  to  our  city  belles  such  amulets  are  vain  ;  they 
are  too  learned  to  wield  a  needle !  and  in  this  age  of 
intellectual  improvement,  they  look  back  upon  the  literary 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  149 

attainments  of  their  "  poor  dear  grandmammas,"  with  sove 
reign  contempt. 

But  we  have  wandered  from  thy  side,  Alice  Vere,  and 
when  bachelors,  in  their  prosaic  life,  can  dream  so  charm 
ingly  as  "  Ike  Marvel,"  what  must  have  been  thy  reveries, 
fair  girl ! 

Those  gentle  thoughts  were  still  veiled  in  mystery,  when 
the  door  of  the  drawing-room  was  thrown  open,  and  a 
visitor  announced. 

Alice  started  from  her  seat,  and  exclaimed,  "Who  ever 
dreamt  of  seeing  any  one  in  such  weather!"  The  words 
were  scarcely  spoken  when  Reginald  Langdon  stood  before 
her,  gaily  adding,  "  and  much  less  did  you  imagine  I  should 
be  the  intruder."  It  was  impossible  not  to  welcome  kindly 
such  a  face  as  his,  cheering  as  the  sunshine  after  a  gloomy 
day.  Alice  revived  beneath  the  inspiring  light  of  those 
clear  blue  eyes ;  her  languor  and  indifference  vanished,  and 
her  sweet  voice  spoke  its  greeting  so  kindly  that  Lang- 
don's  heart  rejoiced,  whilst  his  ear  drank  in  the  music  of 
her  words.  Had  Walter  been  present  he  might  have  con 
trasted  this  joyous  welcome  with  his  own  return.  There  was 
no  trembling  hand,  no  tearful  eye,  no  chilling  silence  now ; 
all  was  mirth  and  gladness,  and  yet  tears  are  often  truer 
than  smiles,  and  silence  more  eloquent  than  speech. 

But  no  such  bright  augury  enlivened  the  vigil  of  Walter 
Gray,  beside  the  death-bed  of  the  man  who  had  injured  him 
most  in  life. 


150  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

Herman  Norman  had  been  appointed  guardian  to  young 
Gray,  being  his  nearest  relative,  but  he  had  neglected  the 
sacred  charge  of  his  dying  sister.  The  orphan  boy  was 
placed  at  a  distant  school,  and  his  uncle  showed  little  inter 
est  or  concern  in  him,  until  the  period  at  which  he  was  first 
presented  to  the  reader,  when  suddenly  awaking  to  the  recol 
lection  of  his  charge,  he  proposed  Walter's  travelling  abroad 
for  several  years. 

During  this  absence  Gray  became  of  age,  and  on  taking 
possession  of  his  father's  estate,  on  his  return,  he  found  it 
encumbered  by  debt,  and  his  affairs  much  embarrassed. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  such  anxieties,  and  with  some  strong 
misgivings  as  to  the  fidelity  of  his  guardian's  administration, 
that  he  received  a  few  hurried  lines  from  Mrs.  Norman, 
requesting  his  immediate  presence  at  Longwood. 

The  summons  was  answered  without  delay,  and  as  Walter 
entered  that  gloomy  chamber,  the  dying  man  fixed  his  pierc 
ing  eyes  upon  him,  and  motioned  to  his  wife  to  withdraw. 
Then,  raising  himself  slowly  upon  his  pillows,  he  exclaimed, 
in  a  hollow  voice,  "  Walter,  I  have  wronged  you — I  have 
robbed  the  orphan  o'f  his  inheritance  !  At  first,  I  persuaded 
myself  that  I  was  only  borrowing  money  you  did  not  want, 
and  which  could  easily  be  replaced,  but  my  affairs  became 
gradually  more  involved,  and  I  have  never  been  able  to 
restore  the  amount  due  to  your  estate  ;  the  pale  face  of  your 
mother  has  haunted  me  day  and  night,  and  her  last  words 
are  ever  sounding  in  my  ears.  I  have  made,  now,  the  resti- 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  151 

tution  both  honor  and  justice  demand,  and  that  deed  will 
secure  to  you  all  I  owe." 

Walter  received  it  in  silence,  and  saw,  at  a  glance,  that 
by  this  act  Mrs.  Norman  and  her  children  would  be  left 
penniless. 

Following  the  generous  impulse  of  his  heart,  he  hastily 
destroyed  the  paper,  saying : 

"  I  cannot,  my  dear  sir,  permit  your  wife  and  children  to 
suffer ;  consider  the  debt  as  already  cancelled." 

The  revulsion  of  feeling  was  too  strong  for  that  exhausted 
frame.  Whilst  his  hand  still  remained  clasped  in  Walter's, 
the  head  fell  back  upon  the  pillow :  his  sorrowing  wife  re 
turned  to  his  side.  There  were  no  words  to  answer  that  fond 
look  now,  but  the  smile  upon  those  silent  lips  was  so  peaceful 
that  she  wondered  if  death  were  not  indeed  more  blessed  to 
him  than  life. 


152  ECHOES    OP    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A  LARGE  party  were  assembled  at  a  dinner  given  by  the 
members  of  the  Jockey  Club.  The  wine  had  circulated  freely, 
and  song  after  song  had  followed,  with  uproarious  chorus,  the 
different  toasts. 

Captain  Rosling  was  unusually  loquacious,  and  upon  some 
one  present  remarking  Jocelin  Vere's  absence,  he  jocosely 
observed,  "  that  the  old  people,"  as  he  styled  the  Major  and 
Mrs.  Vere,  "  had  sent  the  pretty  boy  out  of  town,  for  that  a 
certain  fair  lady  had  decoyed  him  from  the  path  of  duty." 
This  was  said  with  a  most  knowing  wink,  and  upon  his  stric 
tures  becoming  louder  and  more  unguarded,  Howard's  ear 
was  arrested  by  the  sound  of  Lucy  Wilson's  name  coupled 
with  an  epithet  that  sent  the  blood  to  his  cheek  with  an  indig 
nant  flush. 

Fixing  his  eye  upon  the  Captain,  he  leant  forward  from 
the  opposite  end  of  the  table,  and  said,  aloud,  "  The  gentleman 
who  has  so  basely  slandered  a  lady,  whose  name  I  will  not 
here  repeat,  would  possibly  have  been  more  guarded  in 
his  expressions  had  the  one  whose  honor  he  has  implicated 
been  present.  I  beg  leave,  therefore,  to  remind  him  that  in 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  153 

the  absence  of  my  friend,  I  must  hold  him  responsible  for  his 
words." 

Kosling  quailed  beneath  the  glance,  but  recovered  himself 
instantly,  and  replied, 

"  Since  the  gentleman  seems  so  anxious  to  defend  the 
honor  of  his  friend,  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  give  him  every 
opportunity  of  proving  his  sincerity." 

There  was  an  evident  anxiety,  on  the  part  of  all  present,  to 
dispel  the  uncomfortable  feeling  which  followed  this  alterca 
tion,  but  conversation  flagged,  and  the  party  soon  after 
broke  up. 

Captain  Rosling  was  sipping  his  coffee  very  leisurely  at 
breakfast,  the  next  morning,  when  a  note  was  handed  him. 
It  was  from  Howard,  in  these  words  : — 

"  SIR, — In  recalling  the  language  you  made  use  of  last 
night,  I  feel  compelled  to  demand  a  public  retraction  of 
every  statement  you  then  made,  injurious  to  the  honor  of 
the  parties  concerned. 

"  Your  obedient  servant, 

"F.  HOWARD." 

With  a  scornful  smile  the  Captain  drew  pen  and  paper 
before  him,  and  wrote  thus  : — 

"  SIR, — I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  retracting  any  statement 
I  have  made,  especially  when  I  believe  it  to  be  the  truth ; 

7* 


154  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

it  is,  therefore,   impossible  for  me   to   comply  with   your 
demand. 

"  Your  obedient  servant, 

"WILLIAM  ROSLING." 

Howard  was  seated  with  his  eyes  closed,  and  his  head 
thrown  listlessly  back  in  his  chair.  He  had  been  unusually 
silent  and  thoughtful  all  that  evening ;  and  yet  he  was  not 
alone,  for  directly  opposite  was  an  elderly  lady,  dressed 
in  deep  mourning,  whose  soft  eyes  were  turned  lovingly 
towards  him,  as  she  rose  at  her  usual  hour  for  retiring. 
Stepping  forward,  she  placed  her  hand  upon  his  brow, 
and  gently  whispered,  "  Good  night,  my  son." 

Howard  started  up,  and  reverently  pressed  his  lips  upon 
her  pale  thin  cheek. 

As  she  left  the  apartment,  that  tender  "  good  night" 
seemed  to  echo  reproachfully  in  his  ear,  and  his  strong  heart 
was  awed  as  he  felt  that  the  kiss  might  be  his  last.  He 
dared  not  trust  himself  to  think  of  her  grief  then,  and 
shaking  off  the  superstitious  feeling  which  oppressed  him,  he 
was  soon  busily  engaged  in  sorting  and  arranging  his  papers. 

The  last  package  was  sealed  as  Langdon  entered  the 
room.  He  looked  wearied  and  dispirited,  for  his  efforts 
throughout  the  day  had  failed  to  settle  amicably  the  affair 
between  Howard  and  Captain  Rosling ;  and  he  had  merely 
come  now  to  acquaint  Howard  with  the  final  arrangements 
for  to-morrow's  meeting. 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  155 


Near  a  shady  spring,  overhung  by  the 

drooping  boughs  of  a  large  elm,  stood  three  figures 
facing  a  narrow  by-path,  leading  to  the  open  field  before 
them. 

Foremost  of  the  group  was  Reginald  Langdon.  A  vague 
presentiment  of  evil  oppressed  him,  and  as  he  turned  from 
Howard's  calm,  unclouded  eye,  the  sound  of  approaching 
wheels  reached  his  ear. 

The  sun  was  just  gilding  the  forest  pines,  and  the  birds 
singing  their  matin  songs,  as  Captain  Rosling  hurried 
towards  the  appointed  spot. 

His  second  held  a  brief  conference  with  Langdon,  and 
the  preliminaries  were  speedily  arranged. 

The  principals  were  now  placed — there  was  a  moment's 
pause,  as  Howard  stood  calmly  confronting  his  adversary, 
when  the  fatal  word  was  given,  and  both  pistols  were  dis 
charged  almost  at  the  same  instant 

Langdon  saw  Howard  stagger  a  few  paces^  and  then  fall ; 
he  rushed  forward,  and  kneeling  by  the  surgeon's  side,  sup 
ported  the  head  of  his  unconscious  friend,  during  the  exami 
nation  of  the  wound. 

Captain  Rosling  had  received  but  a  trifling  injury,  and  his 
second  now  approached  with  some  expressions  of  regret  that 
the  affair  had  terminated  so  seriously.  But  as  the  surgeon 
succeeded  in  staunching  the  flow  of  blood,  Howard  slowly^ 
revived,  when  he  was  lifted  into  his  carriage,  and  the  parties 
left  the  ground. 


156  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

Custom  widely  sanctioned  then  the  practice  of  duelling, 

< 

and  society  believed  it  the  only  security  for  personal  honor ; 
but  in  this  more  enlightened  age  men  do  not  resort  to  blood 
shed  to  settle  every  trifling  difference.  In  these  Christian 
times  we  cannot  look  upon  the  hand  red  with  a  brother's 
blood,  and  place  the  successful  duellist  above  the  poor  mis 
guided  wretch,  who,  goaded  by  want  or  dire  distress,  is 
tempted  to  the  committal  of  a  crime  abhorrent  to  nature. 

For  what  constituted  this  man  a  murderer  ?j — the  wilful 
act  which  has  destroyed  the  life  of  another.  And  because 
in  the  face  of  day,  in  the  presence  of  witnesses,  two  human 
beings  have  met  for  the  same  deadly  purpose,  is  their  sin 
less  in  the  sight  of  that  Righteous  Judge,  who  hath  declared 
that  "  whosoever  hateth  his  brother  is  a  murderer  ?" 

Ask  the  victor,  when  his  foe  lies  bleeding  at  his  feet, 
when  the  heart,  a  moment  since  beating  quick  and  warm,  is 
stilled  for  ever,  if  the  curse  of  Cain  does  not  seem  to  cleave 
unto  him,  and  conscience  whisper,  "  the  voice  of  thy  bro 
ther's  blood  crieth  from  the  ground." 

Night  was  closing  in  as  Jocelin  Vere  rode  rapidly  through 
the  town  and  reined  up  at  Howard's  door.  He  had  received 
a  few  hurried  lines  from  Arthur,  informing  him  of  the  duel 
and  its  result,  and  it  was  with  an  anxious  heart  and  faltering 
step  that  he  now  entered  that  silent  house. 

In  the  drawing-room  were  several  gentlemen  conversing 
in  a  low  voice.  As  Jocelin  approached,  Langdon  left  the 


OR,      A     VJOICE      FROM     THE      PAST.  157 

group,  and,  in  answer  to  his  breathless  inquiry  as  to  the 
extent  of  Howard's  injury,  he  replied,  that  the  surgeons  had 
not  been  able  to  extract  the  ball,  and  although  the  wound 
was  a  very  serious  one,  they  had  not  yet  pronounced  the 
case  hopeless. 

Jocelin  turned  aside  to  hide  his  emotion,  and,  after  a  few 
moments,  passed  with  Langdon  into  Howard's  room,  where 
it  was  arranged  that  they  should  watch  alternately  during 
the  night. 

Day  succeeded  night,  and  still  within  that  darkened 
chamber  moved  noiseless  feet,  and  there  were  wSispered 
words,  and  anxious  hearts  around  that  couch  of  pain. 

Again  a  widowed  mother  laid  her  hand  upon  that  fevered 
brow,  but  the  poor  sufferer  felt  not  its  blessed  touch  nor 
knew  the  loving  eyes  bent  tearfully  upon  him. 

The  faint  light  of  a  taper  fell  upon  the  face  of  Jocelin 
Vere,  as  he  watched  by  the  bedside  of  his  friend. 

Howard  had  slept  calmly  for  several  hours,  and  much  was 
hoped  from  this  deep  repose ;  when  there  was  a  murmur,  so 
low,  that  Jocelin's  heart  stood  still ;  as  he  drew  the  curtain 
aside,  Howard's  eyes  were  open,  and  a  smile  of  recognition 
passed  over  his  face. 

"Thank  God!"  whispered  Jocelin,  when  his  hand  was 
feebly  pressed,  and  reason  again  dawned  upon  that  bewil 
dered  brain. 

But  vain  was  that  fleeting  hope,  the  watchfulness  of  loving  . 
friends,  the  yearning  prayer  of  a  mother's  heart.  Howard's 


158  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

doom  was  sealed,  and  no  human  hand  could  avert  it  now. 
Gathered  around  that  couch  were  the  few  who  had  known 
and  loved  him  best.  He  was  sinking  rapidly ;  still  his  lips 
moved  as  if  in  prayer,  when  he  breathed  aloud  the  word 
"  Contrition."  Again  he  repeated  it  more  slowly,  and  with 
one  convulsive  sigh  the  spirit  passed  away. 
1  There  were  tears  upon  the  averted  face  of  Jocelin  Vere, 
and  stout  hearts  were  moved  as  they  remembered  Howard 
in  his  generous  and  chivalric  nature ;  for  even  the  most  care 
less  must  be  awe-struck  when  the  light  of  a  joyous  spirit  is 
thus  suddenly  darkened. 

All  that  remained  of  the  young  and  gallant  Howard  had 
been  consigned  to  the  grave,  when  within  the  quiet  church 
yard  glided  a  figure  closely  veiled,  and  Lucy  knelt  by  that 
newly  raised  mound  and  placed  flowers  upon  the  grave. 

Reader,  I  visited  that  spot  a  few  months  later,  the  myrtle 
and  the  rose  flourished  around  it,  and  another  mound  was 
sheltered  by  those  green  branches.  The  broken-hearted 
mother  had  found  rest  beside  her  son. 


OB,     A     VOICE      FROM     THE     PAST.  159 


> 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

APRIL  was  still  chary  of  its  sunshine  in  the  streets  of  Phila 
delphia,  and  the  leafless  trees  spread  out  their  bare  limbs  like 
ragged  beggars,  craving  the  bounty  of  the  coming  seasons. 

But  how  great  the  heart  of  nature,  how  warm,  how  vivify 
ing  its  silent  charities,  how  rapidly  the  naked  hills  are  clothed  * 
in  verdure,  how  soon  almost  magically  those  weird  branches 
put  forth  new  shoots  and  bursting  buds,  until  the  whole 
earth  seems  to  laugh  and  sing  with  gladness, 

In  the  sombre  domicile  of  Miss  Menlove  no  such  genial 
influence  had  warmed  its  gentle  inmates  into  life.  It  had  been 
a  long,  dull  winter  even  for  the  little  "  Beam  ;"  her  step  seem 
ed  light  as  ever,  but  the  sunshine  was  not  in  her  smile,  and 
that  sweet  face,  with  its  floating  curls  and  blue  eyes,  was 
softened  into  a  pale  starlight  beauty,  that  was  too  solemn 
and  too  still  for  Marion.  And  the  cloud  gathered  again 
upon  the  brow  of  Aunt  Miriam — she  was  sure  a  man  was  the 
author  of  all  this  mischief.  Bravely  the  little  "  Beam"  strug 
gled  to  hide  from  every  eye  her  secret  sorrow,  but  Jocelin's 
irregular  and  unsatisfactory  letters  had  pained  her  more  than 
she  herself  was  willing  to  allow.  Still  she  resolved  to  conceal 


160  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

this  from  her  aunt,  until  an  officious  friend  opened  that  lady's 
eyes  to  the  state  of  affairs,  assuring  her  that  she  had  heard, 
from  good  authority,  that  Jocelin  Vere  was  desperately  in 
love  with  another  lady. 

When  Miss  Menlove  first  broached  this  subject  to  her 
little  niece,  Marion  heard  her  in  silence  and  with  many  tears ; 
"but  when  urged  to  write  to  Jocelin,  and  break  off  all  further 
intercourse  with  him,  that  weak  heart  grew  strong,  the  little 
Beam  wavered  not,  and  the  steadfast  light  of  her  own  true 
nature  shone  out,  as  she  exclaimed — 

"  Nay,  I  cannot  doubt  him ;  I  will  not  nourish  this  evil  sus- 
*  picion,  for  when  I  cease  to  trust  I  shall  no  longer  love." 

The  cloud  still  looked  threatening,  and  Marion  longed 
for  the  spring.  "Anything,"  she  sighed,  "but  this  cold, 
cheerless  snow,  it  makes  me  think  of  death." 

The  winter  was  gone  at  last ;  the  sunshine  and  flowers 
again  smiled  upon  the  earth,  but  Marion  lay  pale  and  languid 
on  her  couch,  her  gentle  eyes  gazing  through  the  open  win 
dow,  into  the  deep  blue  ether  beyond. 

Aunt  Miriam  sat  alone  in  her  well-swept  parlor,  and  the 
cloud  grew  darker  upon  her  brow,  as  she  prepared  herself  to 
meet  Jocelin  Vere  with  lowering  displeasure,  when  her  nota 
ble  hand-maid,  Biddy,  intimated  that  a  lady  wished  to  speak 
with  "  the  mistress." 

The  visitor  was  admitted,  and  as  Miss  Menlove  leisurely 
surveyed  a  tall  figure  robed  in  black,  the  deep  veil  was  put 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  161 

aside,  and  revealed  the  care-worn,  altered  face  of  her  once 
beautiful  rival,  the  wife  of  one  whose  early  inconstancy  had 
steeped  in  wormwood  a  heart  formed  for  tender  sympathy. 

But  the  widow's  sombre  garb  told  its  own  tale  of  sorrow, 
and  Miss  Menlove  removed  her  spectacles,  to  wipe  the  mois 
ture  from  the  glasses,  as  her  visitor  spoke.  It  was  a  common 
story,  one  we  hear  every  day,  of  bereavement  and  death,  o£ 
poverty  and  trial :  a  desolate  woman,  tenderly  and  delicately 
bred,  left  to  struggle  with  stern  necessity.  But  that  fainting 
spirit  had  been  roused  to  exertion  by  the  strong  instinct  of 
maternal  love.  Pride  was  conquered,  and  humbly  she  now 
solicited  the  patronage  of  those  who  had  known  her  in  better 
days,  f ,  -i* 

Miss  Menlove  not  only  promised  efficient  aid,  but  her  whole 
face  seemed  glorified  as  she  tied  on  an  antiquated  silk  bonnet, 
and  emerged  from  her  dwelling  by  the  side  of  her  sorrow- 
stricken  companion. 

When  the  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  fell  upon  the  statue 
of  Memnon,  no  greater  miracle  was  wrought  than  the  phe 
nomenon  of  a  cold  and  silent  heart  thus  suddenly  warmed 
into  fervid  life  by  the  glowing  charity  of  Christian  love. 

Again  Biddy  was  summoned  to  the  street  door,  and  upon 
opening  it,  summarily  announced  that  "  the  mistress "  was 
out.  She  seemed  unwilling  to  hold  further  parley  with  the 
enemy,  when  a  gentleman  hastily  brushed  past  her,  and 
Jocelin  Vere  stood  within  the  fortress. 

Through  the  quiet  house  floated  a  sound  that  filled  tho 


162  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

fluttering  heart  of  Marion  with  joy.  She  slipped  from  her 
couch,  and  stole  softly  to  the  staircase,  peeping  over  into  the 
hall  below.  Yes,  it  was  his  voice,  asking  for  her.  How 
could  she  resist  it  ?  Her  foot  was  scarcely  upon  the  first 
step,  when  Jecelin's  dark  eyes  and  manly  face  looked  up 
eagerly,  as  if  seeking  some  bright  messenger  from  a  better 
Morld. 

One  glance  at  the  angelic  apparition,  so  ethereal,  so  fragile 
in  its  beauty,  that  he  trembled  for  its  reality,  and  the  little 
Beam  was  borne  tenderly  in  his  arms  down  the  long  stair 
way,  and  placed  upon  a  sofa  in  the  drawing-room.  She  was 
faint  and  weak,  and  as  he  knelt  by  her,  chafing  the  little 
hand  in  his,  a  smile  played  around  the  pretty  mouth,  but  the 
laughing  dimples  were  gone,  and  in  their  place  were  tears, 
foiling,  from  the  soft  lashes,  upon  her  cheek. 

********* 

As  Miss  Menlove  returned  to  her  own  mansion,  she  won 
dered  who  could  have  opened  the  long-deserted  drawing-room, 
for  Marion  had  not  entered  it,  even  to  touch  the  old  harpsi 
chord,  for  months.  The  good  lady  was  not  one  who  de 
murred  long  upon  any  subject,  so  she  marched  boldly  into 
the  room,  and  suddenly  confronted  Jocelin  Vere.  The  dim 
shadow  of  a  wrathful  frown  gathered  upon  her  brow,  but 
Marion  sprang  lightly  towards  her,  and  drawing  the  old 
bonnet  down  until  her  own  fair  head  was  lost  behind  its  ample 
crown,  she  whispered,  u  Dear  Aunt  Miriam !  forgive  him  for 
my  sake ;  he  has  done  nothing  so  very  wrong." 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM     THE      PAST.  163 

The  bonnet  wavered  and  swerved  like  a  rusty  weather-cock 
in  a  gale,  when  the  wind  shifted  to  the  right  quarter,  the 
clouds  were  swept  away,  and  the  face  of  Miriam  cleared  up 
like  a  summer  sky  in  June. 

Far  away  in  a  distant  land  is  a  stranger  grave,  and  buried 
with  that  sleeping  dust  was  Miriam  Menlove's  bitter  enmity 
to  man. 


164  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  old  Oaks  were  crowned  with  vernal  beauty,  and  the 
sweeping  moss  hung  glittering  with  dew  from  overarch 
ing  boughs,  beneath  whose  shade  a  merry  party  were  dis 
persed.  Gay  voices  echoed  through  the  avenue,  and  fairy 
footsteps  were  returning  from  the  garden  as  breakfast  was 
announced. 

Mrs.  Vere,  in  her  snowy  cap,  was  already  seated  at  the 
table,  where  her  youthful  guests  were  soon  collected.  The 
post-bag  had  been  duly  opened,  and  as  Langdon  received  his 
despatches  from  the  Major's  hand,  he  glanced  nervously  at 
the  superscription  of  his  different  letters,  for  the  increas 
ing  difficulties  and  misunderstanding  between  England  and 
America,  threatened  a  renewal  of  hostilities,  and  furnished 
Langdon's  friends  at  home  with  strong  arguments  for  urg 
ing  his  return.  He  became  silent  and  abstracted,  and  Alice's 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  him  with  such  earnest,  but  unconscious 
interest,  that  when  Walter  Gray  addressed  her  a  casual 
remark,  she  started,  and  her  blushes  deepened  as  she  saw  the 
sarcastic  smile  upon  his  face. 

There  was  a  very  perceptible  frown  upon  the  brow  of 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  165 

Alice  Vere,  and   those  gentle   eyes   flashed   scornfully   on 
Walter,  as  she  rose  from  her  seat. 

Now,  the  heroine  of  our  story  is  no  ideal  being,  but  a  liv 
ing,  breathing  woman,  and  we  must  confess  that  to  us  a  bello 
of  no  metal  is  almost  as  senseless  as  a  bell  without  a  tongue. 

Several  plans  had  been  discussed  for  the  morning's  amuse 
ment,  and  Langdon,  who  had  recovered  from  the  stupifying 
effects  of  a  very  long  epistle,  was  eagerly  soliciting  the  plea 
sure  of  a  ride  with  Miss  Vere.  She  did  not  accede  to  his 
request,  and  when  he  urged  it  more  warmly,  declined  upon 
the  plea  that  the^  indisposition  of  one  of  her  fair  guests 
would  detain  her  at  home.  We  know  not  whether  it  was 
purely  accidental,  but  when  Alice  crossed  the  hall,  a  moment 
later,  Walter  was  standing  there  alone.  She  would  have 
passed  him  hurriedly,  but  he  playfully  prevented  this,  and, 
as  he  held  both  hands  reluctant  prisoners,  looked  into  her 
downcast  face,  when  suddenly  those  beautiful  eyes  were 
raised,  and  their  glance  kindled  as  she  haughtily  demanded 
her  release. 

The  name  of  Alice  was  spoken  very  gently,  no  other 
sound  was  linked  with  it,  and  yet  how  much  was  expressed 
in  the  simple  utterance  of  that  name,  and  the  intonation 
of  Walter's  voice. 

Once  more  the  bird  was  free  to  roam,  but  she  remained 
motionless,  as  if  bondage  were  not  so  irksome,  nor  freedom 
so  joyous  as  anticipated.  Walter  had  vanished,  and  Alice 
now  passed  on  towards  the  room  of  her  invalid  friend. 


166  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

Patient  and  uncomplaining,  lay  a  gentle  girl  upon  her 
pillow,  while  the  mirthful  voices  of  her  young  companions 
rose  from  the  garden  beneath.  Alice  stooped  to  kiss 
that  pallid  cheek,  and  as  she  bound  those  throbbing  temples, 
there  were  grateful  thanks  and  whispered  entreaties  that 
she  should  not  remain  longer  by  her  side,  but  still  Alice 
tarried  until  that  aching  head  was  soothed  and  lulled  to  rest, 
when  she  wandered  to  the  library  in  search  of  a  book. 
It  was  an  unusual  hour  for  the  Major  to  be  at  home, 
and  Alice  was  surprised  to  find  him  still  seated  in  his  study, 
so  preoccupied  in  mind,  that  he  did  not  notice  her  entrance ; 
she  stole  behind  his  chair,  and  parting  the  gray  hair 
from  his  forehead,  softly  kissed  it.  He  looked  up  smiling, 
and  exclaimed,  "Ah  !  you  little  witch,  I  was  just  thinking  of 
you.  How  many  hearts  have  you  stolen  ?  There  has  been 
a  young  knight  with  me  craving  a  boon  I  am  loath  to  grant, 
and  yet  it  is  very  selfish  to  wish  to  keep  you  all  to  myself ; 
but  what  shall  we  do  without  you  ?  How  dull  the  old  house 
will  seem,  when  you  have  taken  wing  with  your  gay  wooer, 
far  over  the  sea." 

The  Major  was  arrested  by  Alice's  wondering  eyes  and 
her  changing  cheek,  as  she  replied,  "Bear  papa,  I  will 
never  leave  you." 

"  Nay,  my  pretty  one,"  returned  the  Major,  "  he  loves 
you  well,  and  deserves  this  sacrifice.  I  know  of  no  one  to 
whom  I  would  sooner  resign  you." 

Alice  crept  closer  to  him,  and  whispered,  "Father,  did 
vou  tell  Walter  this « " 


OB,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  167 

If  a  pistol  had  suddenly  exploded  near  him,  the  good 
Major  could  not  have  been  more  startled,  as  he  rose  hurried 
ly,  declaring  that  the  child  was  mad.  Who  ever  dreamt  of 
Walter,  or  of  consulting  him  in  the  matter !  No,  a  more  exalt 
ed  position  awaited  his  daughter.  As  the  wife  of  Reginald 
Langdon,  both  rank  and  fortune  would  surround  her. 

But  Alice  did  not  seem  elated  by  so  bright  a  destiny  ;  the 
volume,  behind  which  her  face  had  been  screened,  was  thrown 
upon  the  table,  as  she  turned  towards  him,  saying,  "  Father 
I  cannot  accept  Mr.  Langdoa's  offer,  I  do  not  love  him." 

"Tush,  child,"  ejaculated  the  old  gentleman,  "you  will 
iearn  to  love  him." 

That  little  trembling  hand  rested  upon  his,  and  those 
pleading  eyes  were  raised,  as  she  murmured,  "  Would  you 
send  your  little  Alice  from  you  ?  It  would  break  my  heart 
to  go ;  did  you  not  say  you  were  unwilling  to  give  me 
away  ? " 

Her  gentle  earnestness  brought  tears  into  his  eyes,  and, 
folding  her  in  his  arms,  he  whispered,  "  Well,  darling,  you 
shall  have  your  own  way,  but  think  seriously  of  it ;  such  an 
offer  is  not  to  be  met  with  every  day,  and  upon  my  soul, 
child,  I  do  not  see  what  more  you  could  require  in  a  husband. 
But  you  shall  decide  for  yourself ;  your  mother  might  have 
managed  this  business  better,  but  I  never  could  refuse  you 
anything." 

Then  ringing  for  a  servant,  he  ordered  his  horse,  and  soon 
after  left  the  room.  He  had  scarcely  gone,  when  Alice 


168  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE 


regretted  that  she  had  not  asked  him  to  speak  to  Mr.  Lang- 
don,  and  announce  her  decision  at  once.  Quick  as  thought, 
she  flew  to  the  portico,  but  the  Major  was  already  mounted 
upon  his  sturdy  nag.  Alice  called  out,  "  Stop !  Papa,  I  have 
something  to  tell  you." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know  all  about  it,"  added  her  Father. 
"Woman-like,  you  have  already  changed  your  mind."  So 
saying,  he  gave  old  Dumpling  a  touch  with  his  whip, 
looked  back  as  if  enjoying  poor  Alice's  demure  face,  whilst 
she  stood  mournfully  shaking  her  pretty  head  at  him,  and 
then  he  cantered  off  at  a  brisk  pace. 

When  the  party  were  assembled  at  dinner,  Alice  evident 
ly  avoided  meeting  Langdon's  eye,  and  during  the  afternoon 
contrived  never  to  be  left  alone  with  him.  She  hoped  that 
her  father  would  himself  settle  the  matter  as  kindly  and  deli 
cately  as  possible,  and  spare  her  the  pain  of  an  interview 
with  Mr.  Langdon.  But  Mrs.  Vere  disapproved  of  any  fur 
ther  interference  ;  she  thought  it  a  mere  whim  of  the  child's, 
and  still  counted  much  upon  the  success  of  the  suit  when 
pleaded  by  the  eloquent  lips  of  so  handsome  a  man  as 
Langdon. 

If  Mrs.  Vere  had  a  fault  (and  who  has  not  their  own  little 
private  catalogue  stowed  away  in  some  long  forgotten  corner  ?) 
it  was  one  she  least  imagined  herself  guilty  of,  a  most  unre- 
publican  pride  of  birth ;  and  that  aspiring  nature,  which  in  a 
man  would  have  soared  to  the  high  places  of  the  earth,  pent 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  109 

up  in  the  more  circumscribed  sphere  of  woman's  life,  only 
flashed  out  in  occasional  sparks,  showing  where  the  flint 
struck  fire,  but  never  kindling  into  blaze. 

8 


170  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  XX. 

IT  was  the  first  of  May,  blooming,  lovely  May,  bride  of  the 
summer,  wreathed  in  flowery  garlands,  with  the  tears  of 
April  still  upon  her  cheek. 

I  hail  thee,  sweet  May,  perhaps  more  fondly  because  I  feel 
it  may  be  the  last  time  I  shall  look  upon  thy  fkce ;  when 
spring  again  returns,  thy  soft  dew  may  fall  upon  the  old  man's 
grave. 

Age  has  little  left  but  regrets ;  the  world  has  lost  its  charm  to 
those  who,  standing  upon  a  mere  atom  of  earth,  find  it  fast 
crumbling  beneath  their  feet.  But,  ye  light-hearted  children, 
hopeful,  smiling  youth,  it  is  meet  that  you  should  greet  life 
with  buoyant  heart  and  unfaltering  step,  for  to  you  there  is 
no  future  and  no  past ;  your  sun  is  ever  at  meridian,  casting 
no  shadow  upon  the  glowing  present. 

And  to  Reginald  Langdon  how  enchanting  seemed  that 
present,  lighted  by  the  smile  of  Alice  Vere,  for  he  was  of  too 
sunny  a  temperament  to  dream  of  doubt  or  uncertainty. 

It  was  on  just  such  a  morning  as  we  would  choose  for  a 
ramble  in  those  silent,  solemn  forests,  which  at  the  South 
extend  for  miles  around  most  of  the  dwellings  of  its  secluded 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  l7l 

but  hospitable  gentry,  that  the  party  at  The  Oaks  strolled 
through  the  gate,  and  then  scattered  into  separate  groups, 
when  Alice  found  herself  suddenly  deserted  by  all  her  gentle 
mates,  alone  with  one  whose  fascinations  were  certainly  dan 
gerous.  Ensnared  like  a  frightened  dove,  there  was  no 
escape  for  her  now. 

The  woods  were  redolent  with  perfume,  and  the  brook  rip 
pled  softly  at  her  feet,  but  lower  and  more  musical  than  the 
stream,  was  the  pleading  voice  of  love.  Poor  bird !  how  she 
trembled,  and  yet  this  must  not  be ;  captivity  without  love 
to  gild  it,  would  be  worse  than  death. 

The  drooping  head  was  raised,  and  then  came  that 
answering  word ;  low  and  mournfully  it  sounded  in  his  ear, 
a  plaining  note,  the  death  knell  of  his  cherished  hopes, 
and  she  who  had  caused  this  sorrow  seemed  alike  stricken 
with  pain.  Her  gentle,  pitying  nature  was  half  tempted 
now  to  yield,  when  whispering  like  the  breeze  came  the 

memory  of  a  love  to  which  alone  her  heart  responded. 
******** 

There  were  bright  eyes  and  eager  faces  peering  through 
the  half  closed  Venetians,  as  Alice  and  Langdon  walked 
slowly  to waids  the  house.  "Look!"  whispered  a  laughing 
Hebe,  "  there  they  are  at  last.  Mercy !  What  a  stupid 
thing  this  love  must  be !  Not  a  single  word  do  they  seem 
to  be  saying — regularly  talked  out.  May  the  fates  deliver 
me  from  anything  so  melancholy !" 

This  fervent  ejaculation  was  followed  by  a  peal  so  joyous 


172  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

that  it  could  have  come  from  no  heart  less  innocent  than 
May  Burnard's. 

So  thought  Arthur  Vere,  as  he  looked  into  that  blooming 
face ;  her  playful  mirth  drew  him  from  sad  thoughts,  thoughts 
of  one  who  had  passed  from  earth  to  that  Spirit  Land,  where 
his  heart  had  followed. 

A  few  months  since  he  had  received  a  little  package  seal 
ed  with  black.  None  knew  its  contents  save  himself,  for  the 
name  of  Constance  was  written  upon  the  page  within. 

Alice  did  not  appear  at  dinner,  and  when  she  joined  the 
circle  in  the  evening,  she  was  spared  any  embarrassing 
curiosity  by  Arthur,  who  immediately  came  to  her  relief, 
and  so  adroitly  did  he  manage  to  distract  general  attention 
from  his  sister's  pale  face  that  even  May  Burnard's  mis 
chievous  intentions  were  foiled. 

Tea  had  been  already  handed,  and  there  was  a  snug  little 
whist  table,  at  which  Mrs.  Vere  presided,  but  the  lady's 
usual  luck  had  deserted  her,  and  she  soon  resigned  her  seat 
to  the  Major,  consoling  herself  with  overlooking  his  hand, 
whilst  her  ample  fan  tapped  him  suggestively  on  the 
shoulder,  or  waved  triumphantly  over  his  success. 

Alice  had  deserted  the  gay  circle  within  for  a  walk  upon 
the  terrace.  She  did  not  tremble  when  Langdon  approached 
her  now,  nor  shun  him  as  before ;  her  face  was  very  pale, 
and  as  the  moonlight  fell  upon  the  snowy  dress,  draped 
around  those  fair  proportions,  she  looked  like  the  beautiful 


OR,     A    VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  l*/3 

Galatea  of  the  Sculptor  God,  cold  and  motionless  as  marble, 
until  Langdon  spoke  of  parting,  when  a  sigh  stole  from 
those  silent  lips,  and  tears  glittered  beneath  the  drooping 
lids,  as  he  exclaimed,  "Alice,  you  have  made  even  pity, 
which  I  despise  from  others,  sweet,  and  yet  I  dare  not  tarry 
longer  here,  for  how  can  I  see  you  and  not  rebel  against  my 
fate  !  Why  should  I  linger,  since  the  love  which  I  had  so 
fondly  hoped  would  have  surrounded  you  with  happiness, 
has  brought  you  only  sorrow  and  regret  V 

"  Mr.  Langdon,"  murmured  Alice,  "  were  I  insensible  to 
such  merit  as  yours,  what  has  passed  between  us  would 
cause  me  less  pain ;  you  deserve  more  than  I  have  to  give, 
a  heart  that  has  reflected  no  other  image  than  your  own." 

Langdon  raised  her  hand  tenderly  to  his  lips,  and  then, 
for  the  first  time,  suspected  that  the  love  he  had  coveted 
was  another's. 


174  ECHOESOF    A    BELLE; 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

IT  was  Sunday,  and  the  coach  was  at  the  door  punctually 
to  convey  the  ladies  to  the  parish  church,  distant  some  five 
miles  from  The  Oaks. 

Breakfast  had  been  despatched  an  hour  earlier  than 
usual,  and  the  cavalcade  of  saddle  horses  and  vehicles  formed 
quite  an  imposing  array,  as  they  drew  up  in  regular  order ; 
Uncle  Ned  presiding  over  the  ceremonies  with  due  solem 
nity,  seated  upon  his  high  box,  and  looking  down  con 
temptuously  upon  every  other  turn-out  but  his  own.  Alice's 
spirited  little  steed  stood  impatiently  pawing  the  ground, 
when  Arthur  led  him  to  the  steps,  and  assisted  his  sister  as 
she  sprang  lightly  into  her  seat. 

The  forces  were  now  mustered,  Luna  in  a  spotless  kerchief 
was  installed  behind  her  mistress's  carriage,  when  the  whole 
party  swept  gaily  down  the  avenue. 

Walter  formed  one  of  the  cortege  surrounding  Alice,  as 
she  dashed  on  ahead,  defying  all  Uncle  Ned's  rules  of  • 
propriety ;  although  the  old  man,  who  in  former  years  had 
followed  his  master's  fortunes  in  camp  and  field,  gave  her 
the  usual  military  salute,  lifting  the  back  of  his  hand  res 
pectfully  to  his  antiquated  beaver. 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  1*75 

The  road  was  unusually  smooth,  and  the  distance  was 
shortened  by  the  elastic  spirits  of  the  young  people,  as  they 
drove  rapidly  along.  But  the  sight  of  the  church,  sur 
rounded  by  its  wide-spreading  trees,  seemed  to  silence  theii 
hilarity,  and  the  ladies  settled  their  bonnets  and  smoothed 
their  ruffled  plumes,  before  entering  the  humble  chapel, 
whilst  the  gentlemen  stood  grouped  without,  talking  in  a 
subdued  voice,  and  exchanging  greetings  with  their  country 
neighbors. 

It  was  a  solemn  old  church  that,  of  rude  exterior,  erected 
before  the  Revolution,  by  the  English  ;  the  roof  was  covered 
with  lichens  and  moss,  and  the  rough  brick  walls  were  dark 
with  age.  Within  was  uncarved,  unvarnished  wood-work, 
a  plain  reading-desk  and  pulpit,  and  high-backed  pews, 
where  one  might  kneel  in  privacy,  Mrs.  Vere's  elevated  black 
bonnet  being  just  visible,  as  she  sat  in  her  own  especial  corner. 

And  now  the  congregation  from  far  and  near  were  assem 
bled,  the  clergyman  opened  his  book,  and  read,  "  The  Lord  is 
in  his  holy  Temple,  let  all  the  earth  keep  silence  before  him." 

How  impressive  seemed  this  sublime  announcement,  ut 
tered  amidst  the  silent  woods  in  that  simple,  rustic  church  ! 

The  time-worn  Bible,  from  which  the  lessons  of  the  day 
were  read,  was  associated  with  the  revolutionary  struggles 
of  the  early  colonists.  It  had  been  taken  from  the  altar, 
where  it  now  rested,  by  some  British  soldiers,  during  the 
war,  and  carried  to  England,  where  many  years  afterwards 
it  was  accidentally  recovered,  purchased  at  a  book-stall  i» 


176  ECHOES    or    A    BELLE; 

the  streets  of  London  by  an  American,  and  restored  to  the 
spot  to  which  it  so  sacredly  belonged. 

The  simple  hymn  which  now  ascended  in  that  Christian 
temple  was  sung  by  no  orchestral  choir — there  were  nc 
operatic  selections,  no  artistical  efforts,  but  the  familiar 
strain  was  caught  up  heartily  by  all  the  congregation,  and 
it  sounded  like  the  voice  of  humble  praise,  not  of  triumph 
or  display. 

The  minister  of  this  little  parish  was  much  beloved,  and 
many  were  the  kindnesses  rendered  to  the  good  man  and 
his  family.  His  old-fashioned  and  peculiar  enunciation 
might  sometimes  provoke  a  smile  among  the  younger  and 
less  serious  of  his  listeners,  but  even  their  attention  was 
arrested  by  the  earnest  faith  and  exalted  piety  which  marked 
his  discourse. 

I  have  heard  the  beautiful  ritual  of  the  Episcopal  Church 
read  in  the  fashionable  Gothic  structures  of  the  present  day, 
by  priests  in  snowy  robes,  from  richly  gilded  books  that 
rested  upon  crimson  cushions,  whilst  the  light  streamed 
through  gorgeously-stained  windows  upon  the  marble  font 
and  tessellated  pavement  of  the  chancel,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  had  been  admitted  into  some  Eastern  fane,  a  place  of 
luxury  and  repose,  but  not  the  worshipping  place  of  the 
Christian's  God. 

And  yet,  are  not  such  the  crowded  assemblies  to  which 
you  hasten,  my  gentle  reader,  on  the  Lord's  day  ?  In  the 
comfortable,  cushioned  seat  where  you  lounge  away  a  few  un- 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  177 

appropriated  hours,  turning  over  the  leaves  of  your  elegantly- 
bound  manual,  and  eyeing  askance  your  neighbor's  last  new 
bonnet  or  gay  dress,  are  you  offering  the  incense  of  praise 
and  thanksgiving  to  your  Maker  ? 

In  that  brilliant  parterre  of  waving  plumes  and  flowers, 
of  cashmeres  and  satins,  velvets  and  ermine,  there  are  faces 
lovelier  than  all  the  wealth  of  the  Indies,  and  eyes  brighter 
than  the  diamonds  of  Golconda.  But  it  is  not  here  that 
we  would  view  these  charms.  Oh!  flowers  of  immortal 
birth,  come  with  veiled  faces  and  in  meek  attire  to  kneel  at 
the  altar  of  your  God !  Let  fashion  and  the  world  surround 
you  elsewhere,  if  you  will,  but  not  in  the  sanctuary  of  the 
Most  High,  lest  ye  profane  the  temple  of  the  Lord. 

The  little  congregation  were  now  dispersing,  after  some 
very  innocent  gossip,  to  their  distant  homes.  Mrs.  Vere  had 
a  certain  well-laden  basket  secretly  consigned  to  the  Pastor's 
chaise,  as  the  Major  and  herself  lingered  in  conversation  with 
the  excellent  man.  Alice  and  her  companions  entered  the 
little  churchyard.  No  costly  monuments  or  polished  shafts 
marked  the  resting-places  of  its  dead  ;  the  graves  were  over 
grown  with  weeds ;  a  few  wild  flowers  smiled  faintly  among 
them,  and  dark  cedars  threw  their  sombre  shadow  upon  the 
slanting  stones. 

In  this  silent  cemetery  there  was  nothing  to  deceive  the 
living.  Death  seemed  here  what  it  really  is,  solemn  and 
mysterious,  not  like  life,  bright  with  evanescent  flowers — a 
garden  or  a  showy  pageant  blazoned  with  the  deeds  of  man. 

7* 


178  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

Bounding  lightly  along  the  road  with  arching  neck  and 
flowing  mane,  sped  the  beautiful  little  animal  upon  which 
Alice  was  mounted. 

Walter  Gray,  like  a  true  knight,  rode  at  her  bridle  rein, 
but  Alice  seemed  never  to  have  forgiven  him  that  provoking 
smile,  or  her  forcible  detention  some  mornings  since ;  and 
now  that  Langdon  had  gone,  her  manner  was  even  more  dis 
tant  than  before. 

The  rest  of  the  party  were  still  several  miles  from  the 
avenue,  when  Walter  stooped  to  unlatch  the  gate,  and  with 
out  dismounting,  held  it  open  for  his  fair  companion  to  pass. 
She  dashed  hastily  through,  and  in  his  eagerness  to  follow 
her,  his  spur  accidentally  touched  his  horse's  flank,  when  the 
half-open  gate  swung  forward  and  struck  the  horse  so  vio 
lently  that  the  terrified  animal  plunged  wildly,  and  Walter 
was  thrown  against  a  tree. 

In  an  instant  Alice  was  kneeling  by  his  side,  trembling 
and  terror-stricken,  for  there  was  no  sign  of  life  in  that  pale, 
unconscious  face.  A  sickening  dread  crept  over  her,  as 
Walter's  head  rested  heavily  upon  her  arm,  when  a  faint 
flush  passed  over  his  countenance,  and  the  tearful  eyes  of 
Alice  Vere  were  mirrored  in  his  own.  As  he  slowly  revived 
she  whispered, 

'*  Walter,,  are  you  hurt  ?  It  was  my  foolish,  impatient 
haste  which  caused  this  accident." 

Never  had  waking  moment  seemed  so  blessed  to  Walter 


OR,    A    VOICE    FROM    TH^    PAST.        179 

Gray,  and  although  too  bewildered  to'  comprehend  her  mean 
ing  at  once,  after  a  brief  interval  he  replied — 

**  Nay,  Alice,  I  have  only  my  own  carelessness  to  chide ; 
and  how  can  I  regret  a  mischance  which  has  purchased  for 
me  such  happiness !" 

That  trembling  arm  was  gently  withdrawn,  and  as  the 
carriages  now  approached,  Gray  made  an  effort  to  rise, 'but 
his  injury  was  more  serious  than  he  imagined ;  he  felt  dizzy 
and  faint,  and  while  anxious  faces  and  kindly  aid  surrounded 

him,  sank  back  again,  unconscious. 

it 

It  was  several  days  before  Walter  was  pronounced  con 
valescent,  and  Alice,  who  had  flitted  about  his  room,  leaving 
cheering  gifts  of  fruit  or  flowers,  had  vanished  now  that  he 
no  longer  needed  such  gentle  care ;  but  in  the  shadowy  depths 
of  those  beautiful  eyes,  as  they  had  bent  tearfully  over  him, 
he  had  read  more  than  he  dared  trust  himself  to  hope. 

The  party  at  The  Oaks  had  subsided  into  the  usual'  family 
circle,  and  Mrs.  Vere's  preparations  were  now  made  for  the 
annual  visit  to  their  sea-shore  residence,  during  the  few 
months  of  summer,  when  the  malaria  from  the  rich  alluvial 
lands  made  their  stay  on  the  plantation  unsafe. 

Alice  seemed  entirely  engrossed  in  these  domestic  arrange 
ments,  and  Walter,  in  despair  of  obtaining  even  a  casual 
glimpse  of  her  fair  face,  had  retired  to  the  study,  to  while 
away  the  long  afternoon.  He  read  until  the  deepening  twi 
light,  so  suggestive  of  repose  in  its  quiet  gloom,  crept  into 


* 

180  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

the  room,  when  the  book  was  closed  and  he  sank  into  the  old 
leathern  arm-chair,  with  its  high  back,  and  deep,  yielding  seat. 

Now  the  spirit  of  slumber  hovered  over  this  especial 
chair  most  magically,  and  as  a  light,  rustling  sound,  soft  as 
the  breath  of  the  summer  wind,  stole  into  his  dreamy  ear,  he 
fancied  that  a  fair  form  stood  near  him,  and  so  bright  was 
the  vision  that  he  started  into  sudden  consciousness,  as  a  flut 
tering  robe  swept  past ;  he  grasped  the  delicate  fabric,  and 
his  arm  entwined  the  living  embodiment  of  his  dream. 

A  faint  cry  burst  from  the  trembling  captive,  but  whisper 
ed  words  soon  soothed  her  fears  to  rest ;  she  looked  up  con 
fidingly  into  Walter's  face,  and  every  doubt  was  merged  in 
the  blissful  realitv  of  a  love  which  neither  time  nor  tria. 
had  estranged. 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  181 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

UPON  a  barren  island  washed  by  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic, 
where  not  a  shrub  or  spear  of  grass  was  to  be  seen,  and 
where  only  a  few  isolated  palmettoes  lifted  their  plumed 
heads  above  the  rude,  unpretending  residences,  stretching 
along  the  shore,  was  the  summer  home  of  Alice  Vere. 

There  was  a  charm  in  this  island  life,  in  its  freedom  from 
the  restraints  of  etiquette  and  fashion ;  the  intercourse  of  the 
families  assembled  in  these  temporary  abodes  was  marked  by 
kindly  hospitality  and  friendly  feeling.  You  forgot  the 
unpainted,  rough  exterior  of  the  mansion,  in  the  generous 
cheer  and  elegant  courtesy  that  welcomed  you  within. 
Through  those  large  uncarpeted  rooms,  and  long  piazzas, 
the  sea  breeze  played  healthfully,  and  the  sound  of  the  waves 
broke  musically  upon  the  ear. 

During  the  heat  of  the  day  the  ladies  seldom  ventured 
beyond  their  own  veranda,  but  when  the  disk  of  the  setting 
sun  had  disappeared  below  the  horizon,  doors  were  flung 
wide,  and  the  whole  population  swarmed  upon  the  beach. 
There  were  troops  of  merry  urchins  wading  in  the  water,  and 
tiny  children  paddling  with  their  naked  feet  in  pools  left  by 


182  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

the  receding  waves ;  whilst  among  the  different  equipage? 
that  rolled  along  the  broad  sandy  shore,  the  old  yellow  coach 
shone  out  resplendently. 

But,  when  the  little  ones  were  gathered  home  again,  and 
the  inoon  threw  its  silvery  light  over  the  placid  sea,  what  a 
trysting  spot  for  lovers  was  that  silent,  wavegirt  strand ! 

And  as  Alice  wandered  with  Walter  upon  the  beach,  the 
love  so  long  and  silently  cherished  •  not  only  shed  its  bright 
ray  over  the  present,  but  the  shadowy  future  seemed  to  them 
radiant  with  cloudless  light. 

Arthur  Vere  had  been  the  confidant  of  their  first  whisper 
ed  vows,  and  the  sight  of  their  happiness  filled  his  heart 
with  tranquil  joy,  during  the  short  respite  which  he  now 
allowed  himself  from  the  toils  of  business. 

His  favorite  recreation  was  fishing.  He  seldom  returned 
from  the  day's  excursion  until  late  in  the  evening,  when  his 
boat  might  be  seen  gliding  into  a  quiet  cove ;  the  Jittle  craft 
was  then  moored,  and  Arthur  strolled  homeward,  followed 
by  his  faithful  Primus,  the  humble  companion  of  those  fre 
quent  voyages. 

These  expeditions  were  the  cause  of  some  anxiety  to  Mrs. 
Vere,  but  Arthur  evidently  needed  relaxation  and  amusement, 
and  when  she  saw  his  pale  face  wearing  a  more  healthful 
hue,  and  that  bright  smile  beaming  upon  her,  as  in  his  boy 
ish  days,  she  chided  her  idle  fears,  and  only  welcomed  him 
the  more  joyfully  at  evening. 

It  was  one  bright  mormng  in   August  that  the  little 


OR,    A    VOICE    FROM    THE    PAST.          185 

bark  left  its  moorings,  freighted  with  a  larger  party  than 
usual. 

Their  hopes,  of  success  were  amply  fulfilled,  many  fish  were 
caught  during  the  day,  and  when  the  most  choice  had  been 
selected  for  their  repast,  they  made  for  land,  running  into  a 
little  bay,  where  a  solitary  palmetto  offered  them  its  scanty 
shade. 

Here  Primus  exercised  his  culinary  powers,  and  their  din 
ner  would  have  satisfied  the  most  epicurean  taste. 

After  the  young  fishermen  had  regaled  themselves  upon 
this  dainty  fare,  preparations  were  made  for  a  return  home. 
The  sky  had  become  suddenly  overcast,  but  the  wind  was  in 
their  favor,  and  there  were  no  apprehensions  of  an  approach 
ing  storm. ' 

The  boat  bounded  lightly  over  the  sea,  and  Arthur  was 
again  at  the  helm,  but,  while  his  gay  companions  laughed 
and  sang  merrily  around  him,  he  remained  silent  and 
abstracted,  until  his  attention  was  aroused  by  the  ever  watch 
ful  Primus,  who  pointed  out  the  unmistakable  signs  of  a 
squall.  The  necessary  precautions  were  hardly  taken  when  a 
vivid  flash  of  lightning  illumined  the  leaden  sky,  followed  by 
a  deafening  peal ;  the  ocean  seemed  roused  from  its  lethargic 
slumber,  as  a  sudden  gust  swept  over  its  surface ;  the  quiver 
ing  vessel  bent  beneath  the  gale,  and  Arthur  saw  there  was 
but  one  chance  left,  to  double  the  cape,  jutting  out  before 
them,  in  order  to  effect  a  landing  on  the  other  side,  where 
they  would  find  comparatively  smooth  water.  He  gave  his 


184  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

directions  to  Primus,  and  then  added,  cheerfully,  "  We  are 
only  a  short  distance  from  the  shore,  and  even  if  the 
boat  should  be  capsized  in  turning  the  point,  we  are 
all  good  swimmers,  and  must  strike  out  boldly  for  the 
land." 

Again  the  thunder  pealed,  whilst  the  whole  sky  blazed 
with  electric  fire;  the  little  crew  were  hushed  and  awe 
struck,  as  the  heavens  scowled  wrathfully  above  them. 

Arthur  alone  seemed  tranquil  and  undismayed ;  there  was 
a  strange  light  upon  his  brow,  and  in  his  eye,  that  even 
in  this  hour  of  dread  suspense,  struck  those  who  gazed 
upon  him. 

As  they  neared  the  coast  their  slight  bark  rode  safely  upon 
the  crested  waves,  and  there  was  a  moment's  lull  in  the 
storm ;  when  just  as  they  were  rounding  the  Cape,  the 
wind  rose  with  redoubled  fury,  and  a  sudden  flaw  struck  the 
boat,  which  was  instantly  capsized.  As  she  filled,  the  whole 
party  swam  towards  the  shore. 

They  were  within  a  few  yards  of  it,  when  Primus,  who 
made  slower  progress  than  the  rest,  called  out  piteously, 
"  Oh !  master,  for  God's  sake,  save  me !  " 

Arthur  instantly  turned,  while  his  companions  gained  the 
beach.  The  wind  had  now  lashed  the  whole  sea  into  sheets 
of  foam,  and,  as  he  breasted  a  towering  billow,  his  friends 
lost  sight  of  him  from  the  land.^Almost  blinded  by  the  spray, 
they  strained  their  eyes  to  obtain  another  glimpse  of  their 
companion,  calling  loudly  upon  his  name ;  but  there  was  no 


OR,     A     VOICE     FROM     THE     PAST.  185 

answer  or  sound,  save  the  booming  waves  along  the  coast, 
and  the  tempest  raging  fiercely  around  them. 

With  the  first  streaks  of  returning  dawn,  several  figures 
might  be  seen  wandering  along  the  beach.  The  sea  now  lay 
calm  and  tranquil,  as  an  infant  lulled  on  its  mother's  breast, 
and  there  was  a  rosy  blush  over  the  waters,  reflected  like  a 
smile  upon  its  rest. 

The  persons  who  were  grouped  together  upon  the  strand, 
paused  as  they  reached  the  point  where  the  boat  had  been 
upset  the  evening  previous.  And  well  might  they  pause,  for 
upon  those  shelving  sands,  side  by  side,  lay  the  master  and  the 
slave,  with  hand  clasped  in  hand,  as  if  even  in  death ;  they 
were  still  linked  together  by  those  kindly  bonds  of  gratitude 
and  affection  that  in  life  existed  between  them. 

It  is  not  here  that  I  would  touch  upon  a  subject  on  which 
already  too  much  has  been  said.  I  would  merely  assert  the 
truth,  when  I  add,  that  the  life  of  the  poor  African  was,  in 
his  master's  eyes,  of  equal  value  with  his  own,  and  that  for 
him  this  sacrifice  was  really  made. 

You  will  say  it  was  only  an  act  of  common  humanity, 
and  so  it  was ;  but  how  few  of  our  northern  brethren  who 
prate  to  us  of  the  wrongs  of  slavery  would  have  perilled 
thus  much  for  the  poor  negro. 


What  a  night  was  passed  within  the  home  which  Arthur 
had  left  a  few  hours  since,  so  full  of  peace  and  gladness. 


180  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

There  was  no  sleep  for  those  anxious  watchers,  only  prayer 
and  earnest  longings  for  the  morn. 

It  came  at  last,  and  with  it  tidings  that  smote  those  faint 
ing  hearts  even  to  the  dust.  We  will  not  look  upon  that 
mother's  agony,  when  the  fearful  truth  was  first  revealed ; 
such  grief  is  too  sacred  for  intrusion,  but  "  in  the  midst 
of  judgment,  there  is  One  who  remembereth  mercy."  Her 
distracted  prayer  was  answered,  and  she  was  again  permitted 
to  look  upon  the  face  of  her  beloved  son,  although  the 
spirit  dwelt  no  more  on  earth. 

As  Alice  knelt  by  that  brother's  side,  she  heard  not 
Walter's  soothing  words,  for  cold  as  those  pale  lips  was 
the  hand  he  clasped  in  his. 

How  beautiful  in  its  deep  repose  was  the  face  of  Arthur 
Vere ;  upon  the  lofty  brow  and  chiselled  mouth  was  a  radiant 
peace  that  seemed  to  tell  how  blest  he  was  in  his  immortal 
home. 

A  bowed  and  stricken  man  stood  near,  gazing  mourn 
fully  upon  the  dead. 

That  fair  vine,  in  all  its  promise,  was  laid  low,  and  the 
parent  stem  seemed  crushed  and  broken  by  its  fall. 

Oh !  ye  who  sorrow  thus,  bow  humbly  beneath  "  the 
chastening  rod ;"  time  will  bind  up  your  bleeding  wounds, 
and  the  memory  of  that  loved  one  will  become  a  golden 
link  to  draw  you  heavenward,  "  for  where  your  treasure  is, 
there  will  your  heart  be  also." 


10  ®toilig|t 


THE  shadow  on  the  dial-plate  has  passed  the  hour  of  noon  ;  how  we 
should  weary  of  the  dazzling  glory  of  the  mid-day  sun,  could  we  not 
turn  to  the  softer  shades  of  evening,  for  repose. 

In  the  morning  of  life  Time  seems  ever  tardy,  and  we  would 
gladly  speed  his  flight  to  the  goal  of  all  our  hopes  ;  thirsting  for 
knowledge,  for  manhood,  and  for  strength,  we  long  for  the  meri 
dian,  and  when  it  is  reached,  what  years  of  unrest  and  toil  are 
ours!  As  we  reap  the  ripened  fnut  of  seed  early  sown,  we  are  still 
looking  for  richer  and  more  abundant  harvest,  forgetful  that  the 
evening  draweth  nigh,  and  ere  half  our  golden  dreams  are  realized, 
the  day  is  spent,  and  in  the  misty  Twilight  we  sit  down  to  count 
our  losses  and  our  gains. 


TWILIGHT. 


AT  the  commencement  of  »the  war  of  1812  Jocelin  Vere 
had  been  roused  from  the  calm  contentment  of  married  life, 
by  the  stern  call  of  duty. 

In  the  glory  of  those  exciting  scenes  his  daring  spirit 
found  ample  opportunities  of  distinction,  and  when  peace 
was  declared,  in  the  spring  of  1815,  his  name  was  honorably 
mentioned  for  promotion.  ****** 

The  assurance  of  Jocelin's  safety  diffused  light  and  hope 
once  more  within  that  saddened  home  at  The  Oaks,  where 
Alice  ministered  dutifully  to  her  parents,  refusing  to  leave 
them  in  their  sorrow  and  anxiety.  Walter's  frequent  visits 
alone  enlivened  her  seclusion,  and  the  welcome  Alice  gave 
him,  not  only  whispered  patience,  but  inspired  to  renewed 
exertion.  With  steady  purpose  and  unfaltering  courage  he 
toiled  to  redeem  past  misfortune,  and  to  create  a  fitting 
home  for  so  fair  a  bride.  How  few  who  thus  nerve  them 
selves  to  battle  manfully  with  the  difficulties  of  life,  are  ever 
overcome ! 


190  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

There  is  one  whose  humble  fortunes  were  closely  linked 
with  Alice  Vere's  from  early  childhood,  over  whose  bereave 
ment  I  have  passed  with  what  may  seem  unfeeling  silence, 
Had  I  possessed  the  dramatic  skill  of  a  writer  whose  recent 
popular  work  has  presented  to  the  public  an  exalted  ideal  of 
the  negro  race,  a  pathetic  interest  might  have  been  thrown 
around  the  widowed  Lisette  ;  but  I  would  simply  record  the 
truth — that  bereaved  heart  was  soon  solaced,  and  another 
was  installed  in  the  vacant  place  of  Primus. 

NOT  can  I  believe  in  the  delicate  and  refined  sensibilities 
which  Mrs.  Stowe  has  attributed  to  this  peculiarly  marked 
people.  This  lady  has  done  more  for  the  cause  of  slavery 
than  she  imagined,  when,  in  the  character  of  Uncle  Tom, 
she  elevates  the  institution  itself,  for  freedom  could  never 
have  developed  such  perfection  ;  to  spiritualize  and  ennoble 
the  poor  African,  she  has  made  use  of  the  very  system  she 

so  loudly  denounces. 

*         *         *         *         *         *         *         *         * 

In  Fourth  street  Jocelin's  anticipated  return  illumined  the 
old  domicile  with  a  flood  of  sunshine,  as  the  little  "  Beam" 
flew  from  room  to  room,  proclaiming  the  joyful  news. 

During  her  husband's  absence  a  new  and  engrossing  love 
had  been  vouchsafed  to  that  trembling  heart ;  Marion  was 
the  mother  of  a  blooming  boy,  who  bore  the  name  of 
Arthur. 

As  our  naval  hero  entered,  unannounced,  the  home  where 
he  had  left  a  weeping,  sorrowful  wife,  why  did  he  pause 


OR,      A     VOICE      FROM      THE     PAST.  191 

before  ascending  that  familiar  stairway,  as  if  he  scarcely 
dared  trust  himself  to  glance  beyond  it  ? 

This  was  indeed  the  Jacob's  ladder  of  his  dream,  revealing 
only  angel  figures  to  his  longing  sight — for  there,  where  he 
had  so  often  pictured  her,  stood  his  lovely  wife  with  her 
cherub  child. 

It  was  no  illusion,  but  a  smiling  reality,  which  Jocelin 
clasped  fervently  to  his  heart.  There  were  no  more  yawning 
separations  to  divide  them,  the  newly-gained  commission 
was  resigned,  and  when,  a  few  days  later,  Edward  Wallace 
joined  the  family  group,  Marion's  happiness  was  complete. 

The  gallant  conduct  of  the  young  Lieutenant  was  noted 
among  many  of  those  brilliant  successes  of  American  sea 
manship,  that  surprised  not  only  the  enemy,  but  even  our 
own  countrymen,  most  of  whom  little  anticipated  such 
results. 

Jocelin's  presence  was  eagerly  coveted  elsewhere,  and 
towards  the  fall  preparations  were  made  for  their  journey 
South. 

Nothing  could  persuade  Aunt  Miriam  to  migrate,  and  the 
house  seemed  sadly  desolate  when  the  little  "  Beam"  and  her 
baby  were  really  gone.  But  Miss  Menlove's  active  charities 
were  soon  warmly  enlisted  in  her  nephew's  behalf ;  contrary 
to  her  usual  instinct,  she  seemed  bent  upon  some  matrimonial 
scheme,  involving  the  happiness  of  the  brave  Captain. 

And  when  she  intimated,  in  a  business-like  way,  her  bene-* 
volent  designs,  Wallace  laughingly  suggested  advertising  for 


192  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

the  article  forthwith,  and  lighting  his  cigar  in  that  sanctum 
of  purity,  a  privilege  never  before  granted  to  mortal  man, 
strolled  into  the  streets.  On  returning  some  hours  later,  as 
he  approached  their  usual  sitting-room,  a  strain  of  rare 
melody  greeted  him  from  within ;  the  voice  was  not  so  bird- 
like  or  joyous  as  Marion's ;  in  its  deep  tone  was  a  power  and 
feeling  that  seemed  to  come  straight  from  the  heart,  and  as 
the  last  sweet  cadence  vibrated  upon  the  listener's  ear, 
Wallace  passed  on  towards  his  room,  wondering  who  this 
syren  could  be,  at  the  same  time  he  firmly  resolved  to  with 
stand  any  secret  machinations  of  Aunt  Miriam's. 

After  bestowing  more  than  ordinary  care  upon  the  external 
man,  he  entered  the  parlor,  where  the  fair  vocalist  now  sat 
very  demurely  taking  up  the  stitches  in  Miss  Menlove's 
knitting.  The  Captain  mentally  ejaculated,  "  Some  pen 
sioner,  perhaps,  on  my  Aunt's  bounty,  and  I  am  an  asylum 
designed  for  the  distressed  damsel."  This  pleasant  little 
surmise  was  hardly  concluded,  when  he  was  formally  pre 
sented;  the  lady  bowed  slightly  as  Wallace  advanced, 
lifted  her  dark  gray  eyes  for  a  moment  to  his  face,  and 
then  rested  them  steadily  upon  the  knitting.  She  was  not 
critically  beautiful,  the  whole  expression  of  her  countenance 
was  concentrated  in  those  speaking  eyes.  But  there  was 
some  irresistible  charm  in  the  manner  of  Isabel  Ayer,  and  a 
dignified  repose  that  obtained  for  her  universal  respect, 
although  she  was  only  a  teacher  in  the  school  established 
by  her  widowed  mother,  the  lady  whom  we  may  remember 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  193 

Miss   Menlove     having   so   kindly  befriended  some   years 
since. 

And  did  Wallace  "  refuse  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  charmer" 
when  she  sang  again  that  witching  )ay,  could  he  be  deaf  to 
those  entrancing  sounds  ? 

Nay,  he  listened  until  the  songstress,  like  the  gifted  St. 
Cecilia,  seemed  enthroned  far  beyond  his  reach,  surrounded 
by  an  atmosphere  of  poesy  and  music ;  too  exalted  in  her 
celestial  sphere  to  smile  upon  a  rude  son  of  the  ocean. 

But  the  moon  shines  as  brightly  on  the  rough  sea  as  on 
the  blooming  earth,  and  this  fair  saint  had  a  woman's  tender, 
loving  heart. 

Not  many  months  passed  away  when  another  gentle  bride 
was  welcomed  in  Fourth  street,  and,  as  Edward  Wallace's 
wife,  Isabel  became  the  comfort  of  Miriam  Menlove's  declin 
ing  years. 

Jocelin  and  his  little  *  Beam"  were  comfortably  establish 
ed  at  The  Oaks,  and  the  light  of  Marion's  happy  temper 
reflected  its  sunshine  into  those  darkened  hearts,  where  the 
memory  of  Arthur  was  still  so  tearfully  enshrined. 

******** 

No  marriage  bells  pealed  out  merrily  upon  the  bridal  morn 
of  Alice  Vere,  but  the  sweet  note  of  the  red  bird  sounded 
pleasantly  through  the  silent  woods,  and  the  golden  jessamine 
hung  its  fragrant  garlands  upon  the  road-side,  as  the  wedding 
party  left  the  little  church,  where  the  vows  of  Walter  and 
Alice  had  been  solemnly  consecrated. 

9 


194  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE; 

Among  the  guests  who  had  been  present  at  the  ceremony, 
was  one  whom  Alice  would  fain  have  greeted  kindly,  but  she 
disappeared  mysteriously,  and  had  evidently  wished  to  avoid 
notice,  as  she  remained  apart,  during  the  service,  with  her 
veil  closely  drawn. 

Had  it  been  lifted,  reader,  you  could  scarcely  have  recog 
nised,  in  that  altered,  faded  countenance,  the  once  brilliant 
Lucy  Wilson. 

The  world  no  longer  offered  any  attractions  to  her,  for  the 
serious  imputations  cast  upon  her  character,  afforded  by  past 
levity  of  conduct,  and  the  association  of  her  name  with 
Howard's  sad  fate,  had  made  an  unpleasant  impression  even 
upon  those  most  disposed  to  charitable  feeling. 

In  her  splendid  home  sat  an  imbecile  husband,  and  woman's 
tender,  yearning  sympathies  lay  smouldering,  like  the  fire 
upon  her  voiceless  hearthstone,  whilst  for  that  proud  heart 
there  was  only  left  the  ashes  of  bitter  disappointment  and 
regret. 

In  the  simple  cottage  of  which  Alice  was  so  long  the 
happy  inmate,  many  peaceful  •  years  were  passed.  Time 
seemed  only  to  visit  her  with  its  brightest  benediction  ; 
whilst  children  clustered  around  the  cheerful  fireside,  and 
the  sound  of  glad  contentment  rose  within. 

When  political  life  gave  a  wider  scope  to  AValter's 
talents,  he  rose  rapidly  in  public  estimation,  and  in  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States  his  voice  was  often  raised  in 
eloquent  debate,  while  he  preserved  the  unblemished  honor 


OR,      A      VOICE      FROM      THE      PAST.  195 

and  integrity  of  mind  which  won  for  him  even  higher  con 
sideration. 

But  the  brightest  jewel  in  fortune's  diadem,  was  the  affec* 
tion  of  his  inestimable  wife,  the  gentle,  truthful  Alice  Vere. 


196  ECHOES    OF    A    BELLE. 


IN  the  garden  of  my  life  fair  flowers  have  faded,  opening 
buds  and  expanded  blossoms  alike  have  perished,  from  all 
but  memory,  whence  I  have  gathered  these  few  fragments, 
around  which  a  living  fragrance  seemed  to  float  as  I  wove 
the  humble  chaplet. 

Reverently  I  have  placed  it  upon  the  tomb  of  one  whose 
name  will  flourish  long  after  my  frail  garland  is  withered ; 
for  such  transient  flowers  I  may  not  ask  a  brighter  destiny  ; 
and,  reader,  if  there  are  feelings,  less  perishable,  in  an  old 
man's  experience,  that  have  been  veiled  in  silence,  they  are 
slumbering  Echoes  which  he  dare  not  wake. 


THE      END 


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LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  Slip-50m-9,'70(N9877s8) 458— A-31/5,6 


N9  789239 


Shadow,    B. 

Echoes  of  a  belle 


PS2804 

S38 

E3 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


